Box of Problems
by Quinis
Summary: Instead of going after the Raphael at the end of Season 3 (White Collar), Agent Kramer goes after something else. A safety deposit box at a bank. A place where Neal hid something he never wanted to see again. Takes place after the final season of Chuck.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Instead of going after the Raphael, Agent Kramer goes after something else. A safety deposit box at a bank. A place where Neal hid something he never wanted to see again.

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

Neal managed to get the Raphael from Ellen and deliver it to Sara with little trouble. Peter turned up on the way back and helped escort him to the Sterling Bosh office.

Agent Kramer never made an appearance. Neal had expected him to, in a kind of last-ditch effort to pin something on him but, nothing.

While Sara and Peter seemed pleased over the safe and uneventful return of the Raphael, Neal couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong. Did Kramer have another plan?

As he authenticated the painting, Peter's phone rang. Neal shared a looked with Sara as Peter spoke to the person on the other end. He grew more and more agitated as the call went on.

The glances he gave Neal were not encouraging.

"Peter?" Sara questioned when he hung up.

"Kramer found something," he responded, glancing suspiciously at Neal. "Whatever it is, it was enough for him to call in some favours and have your commutation suspended."

"What?" he and Sara gasped at the same time.

"Neal," Peter stressed his name, the way he always did when he was upset or disappointed with him. "Was there anything else contained in those letters? Addresses to your stores or something?"

Neal shook his head.

"I only told Kate where the painting was," he responded. He had stolen it for her, after all. And he wanted Kate to meet Ellen.

"What about the other letters?" Peter asked.

"Other letters?" Dread coiled in Neal's stomach. The FBI can't have cracked that code as it was more complex than the one he used with Kate. Not even Kate knew it.

Neal swore. There was a group of people who might be able to crack it. If Kramer knew someone from The Company, then he might have been able to break it.

"Neal?" The concern in Sara's voice made his stomach churn.

"There's, there's a safety deposit box I opened when I first came to New York," he swallowed before going on, "the other letters mentioned it." And were signed with the name for the box.

He hadn't even thought about that box in ages, truthfully, he wanted to forget about it. And he had succeeded slightly, not recalling the box until Peter brought up the other letters.

"Damn it, Neal!" Peter cursed in frustration. "What was in the box?"

"Nothing illegal," Neal responded automatically. He hoped that the recipient of his letter had been able to remove what he required from it. If the FBI managed to get their hands on that... Neal feared for Kramer's team. They didn't have the slightest idea what they were now involved in.

He took a breath and forced his thoughts to slow down. It was entirely likely that Kramer had cancelled the commutation hearing in anticipation of getting the Raphael. Neal had just beaten him to it.

"Right, we're meeting at my house," Peter said, "Diana's going to bring what she's found out there. Sara, you're invited."

No. Not where Elizabeth was. Neal stepped forward.

"Maybe we should meet somewhere else," he responded, "and keep it to a small group." He didn't want Sara involved in this either. If Kramer had found his box, then he didn't want everyone involved.

He didn't want anyone involved.

"Neal," Peter sighed, "my house is perfectly safe. Mozzie's over there right now, checking for bugs and the like. It'll just be us."

Us. Neal shook his head as he ticked off names in his head. Peter, Elizabeth, Mozzie, Jones, Diana, Sara; and he lived at June's which meant she could end up involved if this went bad, there were many people willing to help him. None of them knew what they were getting involved in.

But, Peter's tone left no room for arguments and maybe Neal didn't want to. It was nice having people to watch his back. He didn't know whether to hope they would continue doing it if the truth came out or hope they would turn away and stay safe.

Mozzie would probably kill him though.

* * *

Neal, Sara and Peter arrived latest. Elizabeth; Peter's dark haired, light eyed wife, had already placed tea and coffee out and given hot beverages to those who wanted them.

Clinton Jones was holding a take away coffee cup from one of the many places near Federal Plaza and standing awkwardly in the corner of the lounge room.

Diana was sitting on the couch, although she stood up as they entered, and had a coffee made by Elizabeth Burke in hand. Peter was happy to see that it was the plain black mug she had and not the 'Female Body Inspector' one that someone; he had his bets on Neal, had bought him.

They both wore suits and looked ready to work.

Mozzie was dressed a little more lax. The short, bald and bespectacled man was wearing a pastel yellow button up shirt and shorts. He wasn't even standing in the room, choosing to stand just beyond the open entranceway between the dining room and the lounge.

"Did you get the painting?" Elizabeth asked, pushing a cup of tea into her husband's hand.

"Yes," Peter responded, his voice dulled by the impending bad news.

"I finally got my Raphael," Sara said, sounding almost orgasmic. She was certainly pleased with the current course of events, Neal's suspended commutation aside.

Neal waved away the coffee Elizabeth went to hand him.

"Do you have any wine?" he asked instead, hoping to be slightly buzzed if he had to talk about the past.

She frowned slightly, displeased with his choice to drink so early. Peter elbowed Neal in the side and told El not to bother.

"Neal, you okay?" she asked, noticing the tight smile he was giving. It wasn't as polished as his conman smile but was far from a real smile.

"Just wondering what Kramer hopes to pin on me now," he responded, trying not to think too hard. He already had a headache from considering the multiple angles and pathways of events which could come of this.

That seemed signal to the room that it was time to get down to business. Diana pulled out a file and placed it on the coffee table. She didn't open it.

"While the DC team worked on the letters to Kate, Kramer was playing a side-angle," she announced, starting from the beginning and looking every person in the room in the eye. "He took some unmarked letters which Neal had passed to Kate and went and decoded them himself."

"Or so he told you," Neal responded, unwilling to believe that the man he met was capable enough to decode his letters alone.

Diana glared at him but nodded.

"Or so he told us," she confirmed, "he's been working this for days, decoding information and getting a warrant. Today, he made his move." She opened the folder and pulled out a copy of the warrant which she passed to Peter. "He managed to get a warrant to search the contents of a safety deposit box in a New York bank since Neal mentioned it and the name it was created under in his letters."

Neal swallowed as Diana gave a dark chuckle.

"You'll never believe what was in there," she said, looking up at him as she opened the followed and spread out the pictures.

Two sets of IDs and wallets. One for a Danny Brooks and the other for a Bryce Larkin.

It was the second black ID for Bryce Larkin that drew everyone's attention. It had a picture of a younger Neal Caffrey with the words; 'Central Intelligence Agency', printed on it.

* * *

**Author's notes: **And this is the start of a Chuck/White Collar crossover.

This takes place at the end of Season 3 of White Collar and a few years after the conclusion of Chuck. I really don't know where this story is going, I just feel that there's a lack of 'Neal Caffrey is Bryce Larkin' stories.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

Neal didn't look anyone in the eye.

"A CIA alias?" Peter questioned in disbelief. The disappointment in his voice was enough for Neal to picture his expression. Lips drawn into a tight line, his neck going red from mostly suppressed anger and eyes that seemed to see through every lie and falsehood.

Mozzie was impressed but felt left out. Which meant he was pouting.

"I thought we agreed that posing as CIA was dangerous and had no pay off," he questioned, sounding slightly hurt.

"Look at the date," Jones felt like pointing out, "Neal hasn't used this in years, unless he's used it while working for us."

"The bank stated that Danny Brooks' box had been sitting there for years," Diana pointed out, "they dated his last visit about seven years ago, right before Neal was caught."

"Neal?" Sara questioned, placing a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't a big deal for her since this was less gut-wrenching than finding a hidden passport behind a painting. He jolted at her touch before moving away.

He shuffled through the pictures, every bit of evidence Diana had been able to steal from Kramer.

"See? This is why we should stay away from the man," Mozzie began ranting, "now the CIA is going to be after you! The CIA! They'll drop you in some kind of containment unit or leave you to their aliens," he paused for a moment, "if I give you a camera, could you take pictures for me?"

"The CIA doesn't have aliens, Moz," Neal responded, everyone breathing a sigh of relief that he was finally speaking. His silence had been unnerving.

Jones reached out and picked up a picture of a small news article. There was a picture of someone who looked remarkably like Neal and detailed his death in a bank robbery.

"Huh? Died in a bank robbery," he commented, "ironic."

"Neal's faked his death numerous times," Peter commented, "an article won't convince anyone that 'Bryce' is dead."

"Convinced enough people," Neal said, recalling certain reactions to his first 'revival'. He shuddered slightly at the thought as he recalled his 'deaths'.

Peter, who had glared at him for that comment, placed a reassuring hand on his back.

"Hey, I'm sure we can find a way out of this."

"Especially if you haven't used these in years," Jones pointed out gruffly.

"Well, we have something in our favour," Diana said, "Agent Kramer doesn't plan to contact the CIA about this just yet. I think he's waiting until he can charge Neal with forgery and impersonating a CIA agent and then he'll contact them."

"Which will be too late for the CIA to take over investigating," Peter scoffed, "all the praise for the arrest will go to him."

Neal sighed. There was no way out for him. If Kramer did arrest him, his name would be all over the news and Bryce Larkin's name will be all over FBI reports.

"He hasn't put the name Bryce Larkin onto any reports yet, has he?" Neal asked Diana.

"He has," Diana responded, "he's running complete background checks on both 'Bryce Larkin' and 'Danny Brooks', he wants to see what comes up."

Neal took a deep breath and tried to calm down. It didn't work. He had been trying to avoid this for years. He had successfully avoided this for years.

His mind stalled, trying to find a way out.

"We could notify the CIA," Peter suggested.

"You want to bring in the spy suits, the g-men in charge of cover-ups?" Mozzie questioned in an outraged tone. "They'll probably kill us all!"

"Geez, little guy, turn down the crazy," Jones commented, wiping a hand across his forehead. They could all sense the stress in the room and it was getting to each them.

"It'll be alright," Elizabeth said to Neal, rubbing a hand along his arm. She locked eyes with her husband and mouthed, 'too pale', to him.

Peter pulled Neal away from the table and placed him on the couch.

"Breathe," he ordered.

Neal let out a hoarse laugh.

"I am breathing."

"You're panicking," Elizabeth informed him.

"I can't panic and breathe at the same time?" he joked. Sara moved to sit behind him as Diana gathered up the evidence and nudged Jones into the next room.

"Oh for goodness sakes," Sara grumbled as she pushed Neal's head down between his legs with Peter's help. "Why are you panicking over two discovered identities?"

"Danny Brooks was my name as I grew up," Neal mumbled, "and Bryce Larkin, is a very long story."

* * *

Mozzie joined Diana and Jones in the dining room, a very solemn expression on his face.

"As much as you don't like it," Diana said to him, "we should contact the CIA."

Jones rubbed and hand over his shaved head.

"How do we keep them from taking over the investigation?"

Mozzie thought about it for a moment.

"'All lasting business is built on friendship'," he quoted, thinking of someone who might be able to help them.

"Get to the point, Moz," Diana ordered, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Mozzie sighed. Suits did not understand how it worked.

"I may have a, friend," he stressed the word 'friend', "who might be able to help us. He has contacts in various alphabet organisations and should be able to sweep this all under the rug."

"Sounds like a spy," Jones commented, "or a criminal."

"He aligns more with the stars and stripes of government oppression and general ignorance than more worldly people such as myself," Mozzie responded, "but he owes me a favour or two."

"Call him," Peter said, appearing in the doorway. "If you think he can help-"

"Oh, he can help," Mozzie said, holding up a finger to silence Peter. "I believe he currently runs with freelance spy-suits."

There was a moment of silence. The Agents waited for Mozzie to make the call but, Mozzie wasn't willing to call his 'friend' in front of them.

"Moz," Peter groaned in a warning tone.

Mozzie glared up at Peter.

"For Neal, Mozzie," Diana reminded him.

Mozzie sighed and pulled out a burner phone, one of many on his person. He stepped away from the suits and into the lounge, moving closer to Mrs. Suit, Neal and Sara. Dialling the number, making sure no one could see it, he placed the call.

"Yeah?" came the gruff response from the other end of the phone. It was deep and rumbling and made Mozzie think of a bear.

"I'm calling in the solid you owe me."

There was a grumble from the other end and the sound of people talking in the background vanished.

"I am a busy man, Haversham and not interested in helping you commit some petty crime."

"You're working in a Buy-More after your girlfriend dumped you," Mozzie pointed out, "that's hardly busy."

The grumble turned into a low growl.

"Besides, I do not need your skills to commit a crime," he paused, "well, not technically. I need you to help a friend of mine. The Feds are hassling him over some fake IDs he has."

"No."

"Mozzie, they're not fake," Neal said at the same time. That proclamation drew the attention of the room. "Danny Brooks is the name I used growing up."

"Oh sure," Mozzie responded, "and I suppose 'Bryce Larkin' is a completely legal name too." He missed the surprised grumble of 'Bryce Larkin', from the phone. "Come on, Neal, I wasn't born yesterday. I know how aliases work."

Neal just sighed.

"You saying your friend uses the name, 'Bryce Larkin'?" Mozzie turned his attention back to the phone.

"Yeah, he stupidly made a CIA agent's badge and the FBI got hold of it."

"I'll help you," the voice on the other end responded, "usual time, usual place? Although, I'll need half a day to get there."

"That's right. The codeword will be 'guava'."

The man on the other end hung up.

"There, problem solved," Mozzie announced to the room.

Surprisingly enough, they all gave him sceptical looks.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Neal's a bit out-of-sorts in these chapters. Everyone else jumps to solve his problems when he wants them all to stay out of it.

Thank you to the four people who have reviewed! I like knowing that there are other people out there who want Neal is Bryce stories. :)

Next Chapter: We get to see into the life of the person Mozzie called and the people who annoy him (if you've seen Chuck, I'm hoping it's obvious who it is).


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

A few time-zones over, in a large green department electronics store; known as the Buy More, John Casey hung up his phone with a growl. He was a towering build of rumbling hate; ever since his on-again-off-again girlfriend dumped him so that she could travel around Europe without being tied down.

"Everything okay, father-in-law?" Morgan; a much smaller and much hairier man, asked as he poked his head into the employee break room. His beard had been mostly shaved back to stubble but was still visible.

"Do not call me that," Casey ordered.

"Oh, okay," Morgan said, "but, you already vetoed 'daddy', 'papa', 'dad', 'father', 'padre', and now 'father-in-law'. It would help if you would tell me what you want me to call you, now that I'm married to your daughter and all."

"Shut it," Casey ordered, pulling a gun out of his locker and cocking it in the little guy's face. He had really been in a bad mood since Gertrude Verbanski; his gun welding and security business boss woman and girlfriend, had left him. He didn't even want to think about what the little guy was doing with his little girl.

"I'm telling Chuck," Morgan said, his eyes never leaving the gun. Casey did admire how the little guy stepped backwards and out of the room.

Chuck would have just frozen and done whatever he asked. He would never tell the little guy, but he admired Morgan in some ways. But, not in others; as he was reminded moments later when Chuck himself walked in. The Little Elf had tattled.

Although he had been a spy for years, Chuck was still jumpy around him and anyone else he knew handled weapons. Except for his wife.

"What do'ya want, Bartowski?"

Chuck's eyebrow raised and he smiled slightly. At least, until his eyes skimmed across the gun in Casey's hand.

"Casey, it's the middle of business hours," he scolded with a worried frown. His hands flailed slightly, reaching to remove the weapon and flinching back as he consciously realised he couldn't fight Casey.

Not even with the fancy computer in his brain.

"You need to put the guns away," Chuck continued, a strand of dark brown hair flopping over his forehead.

"Fine," Casey responded. He placed the gun in his employee locker, showing each step to Chuck.

Chuck didn't breathe a sigh of relief until the lock slid into place. Casey was tempted to tell him that the lock didn't matter. After all, he had just hung up on one person who would have been able to break it in less than 10 minutes.

Remembering the call, Casey said, "I'm going to New York for a few days. Schedule it in for me."

Chuck's eyes widened for a moment before he nodded. He might only look like the head of the Nerd Herd; the Buy More's install and technology fix-it crew, but he was really the Head of Burbank Buy More.

"Is this about, um, you know...?" Chuck's voice trailed off as he couldn't bring himself to mention her name. He thought it would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

Casey just grunted and left the room. He could suffer through another afternoon of selling morons appliances with visions of what was waiting in New York fluttering through his head.

He wondered what kind of gun he should use.

* * *

Underground and beneath the Buy More, there was a secret base. It was like any other secret base with its steel walls and doors, secret rooms filled with weapons, cells for captured enemies, and a large meeting room for secret meetings.

There was a secret passage from the Buy More, into this secret base; dubbed 'Castle'. It was there Chuck went, shortly after talking to Casey.

It was there he found his wife; Sarah Bartowski, typing away on a computer. He tucked his arms around her middle and placed his head on her shoulder, looking down at the computer screen she was working on and trying to get rid of his uneasy feeling.

"What are you up to?" he asked in a friendly tone. Due to an incident with the computer known as the Intersect; a computer which could be downloaded into people's heads and contained the information and secrets of the intelligence agencies, sometimes she was prone to moments of 'coldness' where she would dismiss him, distrust him or even outright attack him; although that one was mostly a reflex from years of being a CIA agent and it kind of served him right for trying to give her a Halloween scare.

"Just checking our accounts, looks like we're doing quite well for once," she explained with a happy sigh. It looked like today was going to be one of her good days. "How about you?"

"Good but worried." He didn't need to her ask, he could feel the question in the way her muscles tensed. "Casey asked me for some time off. He's going to New York."

"Gertrude was last seen somewhere in Moscow," Sarah said with a frown. It was suspicious as Casey hadn't shown much interest in anything since the break-up.

What was in New York which could possibly attract his attention?

* * *

Neal looked at the photos again and sighed. Bryce Larkin had a roundish-face, one full of youth. He had been out of hearing range of Mozzie's phone call; except for the 'fake IDs' comment, all he knew was that he had called in a favour from someone who could get the job done. Neal hoped that whoever it was could get the job done without hurting anyone.

"Might as well have lit a flare," he commented to himself as he nursed his wine. He didn't really care that Kramer was looking into with Danny Brooks, the kid was clean and Neal stopped using his first WITSEC alias after he turned 17 and no information about him could be released anyway.

It was his second WITSEC alias, the one he used after he turned 17 that could cause a problem.

Bryce Larkin could be connected to a lot of dangerous people, a lot of dangerous people that Neal Caffrey had a reputation for avoiding. It could be more than enough to lock him away. Not to mention the damage it would do to his 'non-violent' status.

He knew that the CIA wouldn't get involved in this. Aside from believing him dead, there was no reason for them to monitor the FBI and Kramer seemed to be keeping this a secret. If he could just lay low for the next few weeks and ride out to storm within the confines of the FBI, he would be fine.

Everyone had thought he was in shock. Even Diana and Jones, who had no reason at all to take his side with the uncovering of his 'fake' IDs, had spoken to him like they might a witness or victim.

Maybe he had been in shock. His two oldest identities, in the hands of Kramer, it was a shocking thought. But, he had burnt aliases before. Bryce had already been burnt, although not according to his plan.

"How are you doing?" June asked, walking inside with a knock at his door. It had been open in case Mozzie decided to visit. "I heard about your unfortunate loss."

"They were good guys," Neal responded with a sigh. He topped off his wine glass and offered another to his landlady.

She took it with a smile. Neal felt his heart clench.

"June. Maybe you should go on a vacation," he said. He was probably recalling Bryce's last death and how dangerous things could get. "Take a few months to visit the kids and see the grandkids."

June looked surprised for a moment but, only because she allowed him to see it. It was strange for him to request something like that from her.

"Is this related to your current employers?" she asked in a pleasant tone.

"No," he responded instantly, thinking of Peter. It wasn't the FBI that held the danger. But, then again, Kramer had his IDs and was looking into Bryce Larkin. "Yes," he corrected, "maybe." He saw June's sceptical look; telling him to give her a good reason or she would stay. "June, I need you to keep this a secret."

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far!**

Because I do send PM replies to people who review, I thought I'd add an option for those who just want to review but don't want a reply.

If you don't want me to reply (excluding those who review as guests or not logged in, because I can't reply to those anyway), just sign your review with a smilely face; :) , put it right at the end and I'll read it but not respond. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

Peter arrived the next day to find that June had quickly arranged a trip during the next week or so. None of the staff knew when she would be back but she had left them all with instructions and reduced hours.

Neal gave no indication that this trip came as a surprise to him and Peter wondered if he had something to do with June's sudden travel bug.

Although the younger man was trying to hide it, the events of the previous day were distressing him. His suit was perfect with not a single wrinkle and his hair had not a hair out of place. In order to complete the illusion that he was fine, Neal even had the accompanying black fedora tilted over his eyes.

He smiled a perfect smile and held himself out for Peter to inspect.

"Here to arrest me?" he asked, the smile not faltering for a moment.

"No," Peter responded as worry coiled in his gut. He couldn't forget Neal's protests that the identities weren't fake. He had said that 'Danny Brooks' had been his name growing up but hadn't offered any information on 'Bryce Larkin'. Something about that worried him. No FBI agent wanted to mess with the CIA; the proof in Kramer's unwillingness to contact the organisation. Kramer could justify such actions under selfish means but, it didn't hide the fact. "We go to work as normal." And they pray that Kramer doesn't act.

Neal looked surprised for a moment before nodding. Peter swallowed down all his questions. And he had a lot of questions.

In the office, Kramer had taken over the conference room. He had a few members of his own team up there and had drawn all the curtains.

Not even Diana knew what was going on. Jones and Neal were under orders to avoid her, just in case Kramer was suspicious. Peter needed all the information he could get and Diana was in the best position to get it for him.

Neal spent the day working in Peter's office. Kramer shot him a few smug smiles but, beyond that, it was almost normal.

* * *

Which was probably why; upon walking into his apartment to see the well-built form of John Casey, his heart almost leapt out of his chest. He stopped breathing for a moment.

Casey smiled and Neal's eyes narrowed.

"Here to try again?" he quipped in a less than pleasant tone. He wondered why he was even here and how he had found out about this.

"I'm here to pull you from the fire," Casey responded, "fix your mistakes and all that."

Neal raised a sceptical eyebrow. It was hard to believe that Casey was here of his own volition and not because of a CIA or NSA mission.

They eyed each other off and Casey's hand reached for the gun tucked into his waistband.

And then Mozzie came walking out of the bathroom, wrapped in a white robe.

"I thought I said 'no guns'," he scolded Casey, "we don't need a body count for this."

"Wait, you know each other?" Neal questioned, glancing between the two. He had thought that Casey was the exact kind of person Mozzie would avoid.

"I know that his 'cop-face' is a turn-off but he's the best man for the job," Mozzie said, completely oblivious to Casey's disapproving frown.

"No, no, he's really not," Neal responded.

Mozzie looked at him curiously and Casey almost smiled.

"Scared, Larkin?"

Neal was, but he didn't think it showed on his face. And then he hit the back wall and he realised that he had been unconsciously backing away from them. He took a deep breath and disguised it as a sigh.

"You called him?" he asked Mozzie.

"Yes." Poor, poor oblivious Mozzie. "He owes me a favour for getting him floor plans of certain buildings."

"You know he's NSA, right?" Neal couldn't help asking. He tried not to notice that, for once, he was being the paranoid one while Mozzie worked with the government agents.

"You're one to talk," Casey responded, "although, does the CIA even know you're here? And working with the FBI?" Casey snorted a laugh. "It's a good fit."

Neal tried not to feel insulted.

"No, the CIA does not know anything. Only Beckman and a few other medical agents know I'm alive and they lost track of me when I broke out of their secure facility." Alright, he was bragging a little. He paused before continuing, "and then the FBI arrested me for forging bonds and put me in prison for four years."

"And then you broke out with three months left and had to make a deal with the FBI when they caught you, again. And all for a girl, you numbskull," Casey said. It sounded like he was scolding him. "Haversham explained."

"Are you going to tell Chuck and Sarah?" Neal asked, taking a seat. Casey mirrored him, placing his gun on the table and slipping into the seat across from him.

"Wait." Mozzie was confused. He had only been able to follow half of what Casey had said and almost none of what Neal was saying. Neal was acting different too; every moment was calculated and not as fluid as his normal movement. One thing was obvious, "you two know each other?"

Neal didn't look him in the eye.

"He's CIA," Casey explained, "or Bryce Larkin is. We worked together."

"You shot me," Neal said in an accusing tone.

"And then we worked together in a joint CIA/NSA project."

"You're a fed?" Mozzie accused Neal. Neal didn't take his eyes from Casey's side of the table as he nodded. "A spy-fed?" Neal nodded again. "A fed-spy?" Neal nodded, although his face twitched into a real smile for a moment.

* * *

Mozzie felt betrayed. He stared at Neal; he had head down and body tense, and wondered if he even knew his friend. The 'Neal Caffrey' he knew could just be some kind of construct, a government ploy to find out all his secrets.

He should have been repulsed. Self-preservation was telling him that he should leave the apartment forever and not look back but he wasn't listening.

Instead he wondered what Neal was really like, if what he saw was the real personality of his friend. He wanted to know more, which he could admit was a really dangerous thought.

The world of spies was dangerous. Guns were the norm and a single misstep could be dangerous.

"Excuse me," Mozzie said. He walked out of the apartment and down the hall, to a place where he hid the fine bottle of wine June had given him. He didn't think Neal knew about it and he needed a drink; one possibly not spiked with whatever chemical they brainwash people with.

* * *

Neal watched Mozzie leave and sunk back in his chair. He felt three inches tall and weighed down by tons.

Casey didn't seem to care the Mozzie had left in a highly emotional state, nor that he possibly killed the friendship between the two. He just made an amused 'huh' and continued on with business.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

Miles away and underground, Chuck had called his team together; minus one. Casey had not come into work that day and was probably in New York by now. Although he had been warned about it, Chuck was mildly curious about what was going on with his missing team member.

"He took a late flight last night," Sarah commented as she scrolled down flight lists. She shared her husband's curiosity about what Casey was up to.

Morgan was probably the only one who wasn't interested. He fiddled in his seat and didn't really pay attention to the meeting. Everyone noticed that it was because his phone was sitting in front of him, receiving texts from Alex Grimes nee. McHugh; his new wife and Casey's daughter, every few minutes.

"Is this really mission-worthy?" Morgan asked, "surely he's just going on holiday."

"You should know that Casey doesn't take holidays," Sarah responded.

"Casey rarely takes holidays," Chuck repeated.

Morgan wasn't convinced that there was something going on here.

"So? Guy got dumped, can you blame him for wanting a little R 'n' R?"

"Morgan," Chuck sighed. "Buddy, come on."

"What does Alex think?" Sarah interrupted. Chuck looked at her and she raised an eyebrow in return.

"Alex thinks," Morgan picked up his phone and pressed his finger to the screen a few times. "She thinks that it's unusual for her dad to go on holiday but she has heard about a few good gun shops there."

"Agent Casey has an informant who hangs around New York." The female voice jumped into the conversation. General Diane Beckman, an imposing woman and seated in her office, appeared on screen.

"General," Sarah greeted, turning to face her immediately.

Chuck and Morgan barely gave her more than a glance, preferring to continue the conversation with her but not leaded by her.

"So, Casey has an informant in New York," Chuck repeated, "what does that mean?"

"That he has friends?" Morgan guessed in response.

"An informant is not a friend," Sarah explained, "they're someone who gives you information, sometimes at a price."

"Agent Walker's description is correct," the General said. Sarah Bartowski preferred to use her previous last name for missions, just as her husband used his identity of Agent Carmichael. "We are concerned about the nature of the favour which his informant has requested. While the identity of the informant is not known, we believe he may be connected to 'The Dentist of Detroit' and, as such, the details of this favour may pose a risk to our operations."

"I didn't know the NSA was so worried about its operatives going around and breaking the law," Chuck commented in a deadpan manner. The NSA and CIA did so many other questionable things, that worrying about Casey hooking up with criminals seemed a touch overbearing.

"I think she might believe that this is a front, a way for someone to get at Casey and find out everything he knows," Sarah pointed out, sobering Chuck slightly.

Morgan was silent for a moment and then he perked up.

"Does this mean we're going to New York?" he asked.

"No," Chuck and Sarah responded automatically.

"Actually, yes." They all stared at Beckman. Morgan jumped out of his seat with a cheer, Chuck's jaw dropped to the floor and Sarah's face went impassive. "An FBI agent has requested our presence. Contacting us through one Agent Berrigan, Special Agent Peter Burke of the FBI has made us aware of a counterfeit CIA badge ending up in their offices. You three-" Morgan called out something about bringing his wife, which Beckman ignored, "will respond to his request."

"You think the badge and Casey's trip are linked?"

"I don't believe in coincidences, Agent Walker." With that said, the screen went dark.

Team Bartowski gathered up their things and began preparing for their mission.

* * *

Neal paced across the floor as Casey downed another beer.

"You really want me to do this?" he asked in confusion. He was growing more and more convinced that this was not the same Casey who had shot him all those years ago. If he was Mozzie, he would have been investigating the likelihood of the man being an imperfect clone.

Maybe he would anyway; just in case.

"Come on, Larkin. Despite being 'all business', you had quite the reputation for being a romantic."

"I still do," Neal responded. He couldn't help feeling twitchy whenever Casey referred to him as 'Larkin'. It was a name that didn't fit the suits he was wearing, the way he walked and talked nor the way he carried himself.

Bryce Larkin was dead.

"And you're a thief."

Neal Caffrey glared at Casey. He was not 'a thief', he was a legend! The great Neal Caffrey! There were lessons about him and what he was rumoured to have done.

"I'm a conman," he said instead, "a good one. And I would like to stay that way. Crossing Verbanski Corp. is a death sentence."

"I want my gun back, Larkin," Casey's tone left no room for arguments. Gertrude had been one of the few people to disarm him. The gun he had lost, she mounted on her wall. He figured that the best way to catch her attention was to steal his gun back.

"Too bad. I'm not some two-bit thief for hire."

"FBI snitch," Casey sneered, hitting a sore spot. "Wonder what they'd think if they found out about you?"

Neal turned and glared at him, his crystal blue eyes darkening to a gunmetal colour. His stance tightened and he drew himself up. His shoulders squared, his hands clenched and his smile vanished.

"I am not a thief for hire," he said, his tone as hard as the rest of him. His stance, words and body motion betrayed no other emotions beyond what was necessary. He moved like someone holding themselves back.

Right now, Casey was standing face-to-face with the spy.

"No, you're not," he responded, his hand grabbing his gun. "I haven't forgotten that, even though you have. You've tricked everyone into thinking you're some kind of conman and thief, including yourself. Turning your back on your country, and for what? A few shiny babbles?"

"I died, Casey," Bryce responded, placing his hands spread on the table. "Twice. All to keep the Intersect safe and out of the wrong hands. To fight against an organisation that both the CIA and NSA didn't know existed. To make you aware of what was at stake!"

"You tried to do things alone, without your team, and you failed," Casey responded, cocking his gun.

Bryce faltered at that. His team? Before he could ask what Casey meant, a voice commented from the entrance;

"What's going on here?" Mozzie stood there, having walked in a moment before.

Neal was braced against the table with his back straight and a small knife hidden underneath the palm of his hand.

Casey was sitting across the table with a beer in one hand and a gun in the other.

What really bothered Mozzie was that Neal didn't seem surprised that Casey was pointing a gun at him.

Something in Neal seemed to switch. He pulled back and slipped the knife into his waistband. His eyebrows slightly furrowed and he smiled his conman smile.

"Moz? You came back?" he questioned in surprise.

Mozzie held out his glass of wine; his third glass that night, and the bottle.

"We needed some wine for planning," he pointed out, placing a spare glass on the table and filling it.

Neal paused slightly before reaching for it. He swirled a wine a little before taking a tentative sip.

"You can hold off on the plans for the FBI," he said, "Casey won't help us unless we steal a gun from Verbanski Corp."

Mozzie rounded on Casey.

"Are you insane?" He turned to Neal and questioned again, "is he insane?"

"I question his sanity," Neal responded, "since he was dating the head of Verbanski Corp."

Mozzie made an impressed noise. Even though his had his doubts; whether coming back was the smart thing to do, he wasn't going to leave Neal to do this alone.

* * *

**Author's notes: **_Response to Kaya, who asked about the timeline. And for anyone else who is interested._

_ I left this out until someone asked about it, because I don't think it has much impact on the plot. Honestly, I've come up with a number of ideas for how Neal could be in prison while Bryce runs free. _

** However...**

For this story, the timeline has to be altered. Basically, Bryce died the second time and then was revived by General Beckman and the CIA. He escaped as soon as he could. Then, he met up with Mozzie and found out where Kate was. He got arrested and went to prison.

During the next three seasons of Chuck (Bryce dies during the final episode of season 2) Bryce is in prison as Neal.

_I think that covers it. Questions and reviews welcome._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Neal woke with the memory of Mozzie's voice in his ear, asking; 'have you ever conducted mind control experiments?', and whether he could get the files.

The glasses from wine they drunk that night were still out on the table and Casey was gone. And so was Mozzie, or so Neal thought. Mozzie walked out of the shower wrapped in a white, fluffy bathrobe.

"Hurry up," he said when he noticed Neal was awake and blinking blearily at him. "I would like to get most of the prep done before your suit shows up."

Neal sighed and climbed out of bed.

"Are we really going to do this?" he asked. He rubbed his hands over his face and tried to ignore the pre-con jitters.

Mozzie pulled out a box of paper and started sorting through it.

"It would have helped if lover-boy had noticed the kind of paper his girlfriend used."

Neal shook his head and took a shower, the idea of someone referring to Casey as 'lover-boy' foreign and slightly ridiculous to him.

"Neal, come on." Mozzie was almost whining.

"It's almost five in the morning, Moz," Neal responded as he dressed, "we have time."

He ignored the 'really?' look Mozzie sent his way.

"And we'll have plenty of time after Casey extracts me from the FBI."

"You sound like a suit," Mozzie said in response.

Neal froze and looked up at Mozzie. The look in his friend's eyes had been one he had never received before. It was shielded in a way that Neal had only seen directed at Peter and his agents.

"I-uh," Neal started, before realising that he had no idea what to say.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Mozzie asked in a strong, but hurt, voice. For him, this was worse than Neal making some fake IDs and not telling him. Neal had lied to him, possibly during the entire time they had known each other.

"No," Neal responded. After a moment, he added, "Bryce Larkin died. He died before I found Kate and went to prison. The CIA thinks I'm dead and I am quite happy with that. Bryce Larkin was never supposed to appear in Neal Caffrey's life."

Mozzie frowned. Neal had missed the point.

"How many years did you lie to me?" he asked, "how many years did we pull cons together while you worked for the Men In Black?"

"Moz, I told you, the CIA does not do aliens." Neal dodged the question.

"Maybe I should ask someone else," Mozzie responded in disappointment.

Neal looked down at the table, his hands tugging the boxes closer to him. Mozzie watched as he pulled out a sheet of paper; a delivery form, and the corresponding clipboard.

All they needed now was a sample of Gertrude Verbanski's handwriting and signature.

"When we met, I was in the CIA but I wasn't on a mission," Neal said.

"I don't believe you," Mozzie responded. He didn't know whether it was that Neal was CIA when they met, that Neal wasn't on a mission or the whole situation that he couldn't believe.

Neal covered his hurt under a small smile.

"I had just done something very wrong," he said, "and needed to get away for a while."

"The bonds?" Mozzie asked; referring to the bonds Neal had forged before they met. It was the main reason Mozzie had decided to work with Neal.

The conman smile returned to Neal's face.

"Oh, those?" he said with a smirk. "When I set up Danny Brooks' box, the lady behind the counter implied that they were impossible to forge. I took it as a challenge."

Mozzie looked up at Neal with narrowed eyes. So, the bonds weren't the 'very wrong' thing that Neal spoke of. Mozzie catalogued that information away in his head. Also, Neal was still Neal. Mostly.

"You know, if you shook your head and muttered some kind of curse in my name, you would look just like Peter."

Mozzie decided to ignore that.

* * *

Peter was uneasy. Diana reported that Kramer's request for information on Danny Brooks had been denied on the grounds that it would put current protected witnesses in danger.

Kramer was throwing a fit over that and trying to call in whatever favours he had. Peter thought he should just give up.

The real source of Peter's uneasiness was Neal. The conman was dressed to the nines with a slightly furrowed brow and a ready smile. He didn't talk about the IDs currently locked down in evidence. He didn't mention Kramer. When Peter asked him how he would feel about coming over for dinner that night; El wanted to make sure he was handling this properly, he had misdirected and changed the subject without giving an answer. Peter had not been impressed.

"Peter, someone to see you," Jones announced an hour after work started.

The man who came in was wearing a suit, just like the rest of them, and briefly held up an NSA badge. He introduced himself gruffly as 'John Casey' and sat down.

"What can I do for you, Agent Casey?" Peter asked. Did he believe this guy was NSA? Maybe. But, Peter had already contacted the CIA; who were sending a team, not a single agent. It was possible that the NSA had heard about the ID however, Neal had shot them a glance before going back to work. That was more telling than anything else. Peter schooled his features into a bored expression. He could play stupid FBI agent when he had to.

"I would like to speak with the person who forged a CIA badge. It's a matter of national security," Agent Casey said.

"Really?" he said, not even bothering to hide his disbelief. "Well, I'm not the Agent in Charge of that case."

"But you are the FBI handler of the suspect," Casey said before he could continue. "And it is your permission I need to take the suspect to one of our private facilities."

Peter didn't like the sound of that.

"One moment," he said, walking outside. He gave Neal the two-finger point and brought him into his office.

Neal wasn't the least bit surprised to see Agent Casey. They didn't introduce themselves to each other. Instead Neal asked Peter who the man was.

"Agent John Casey of the NSA," Peter informed him, "he wants to interrogate you about the CIA badge."

"We just want to ask some questions," Agent Casey responded. He gave Peter a look that told him not to scare Neal off.

Peter thought Neal was far from being scared. He recognised Neal's posture from his own interrogations of the younger man, back when he had been chasing him.

Neal was in complete control of this situation.

"If Neal's okay with it, then I am as well."

Agent Casey stood with a nod.

"The GPS monitoring device you have strapped to his ankle will have to come off," he said.

Peter raised his eyebrows but nodded anyway. If this was Neal's plan, his choice, then so be it.

Peter gave the marshals a ring and took off the anklet. He watched Agent Casey push Neal forward and follow him out; with his hand not leaving his gun the whole time.

Peter wondered if he would ever see Neal again. If he had read the atmosphere right, then this was Neal's plan of escape.

While sad and disappointed, Peter was also glad. Hughes had called by his house late the previous night and informed him that Kramer was looking into moving Neal to DC. If anything criminal was connected to Bryce Larkin, then there would be nothing Peter could do to stop his former mentor from keeping Neal forever.

Peter held onto the hope that he would be able to get Neal back when this was all over. The CIA team would arrive in a few days and then Kramer would be too busy covering his own behind to even think about Neal. Or so Peter hoped.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

"And it was that easy?" Mozzie questioned in his sceptical manner.

Neal twisted his bare ankle once more before placing it on the ground.

"If we're all done staring at Larkin's legs," Casey said, in the hope of moving the little guy along with the plan.

"You don't get it," Mozzie said, "the Suit rarely lets Neal off his leash without any contact with him."

Casey gave a disgruntled grunt.

"Mozzie's right," Neal said, "Peter was too quick to believe you."

"He's FBI!" Casey responded, as if that could be used to justify everything.

Neal and Mozzie shared a look. Neal couldn't believe Mozzie had previous transactions with Casey and Mozzie couldn't believe Casey could be so dismissive of the man; he implored Neal with his eyes to say something.

"That doesn't mean he's stupid," Neal said. It was a weak argument and didn't even make a dent in Casey's armour but, Neal didn't want Casey paying attention to Peter. "Not that it matters. I'm off anklet and we need to move."

Casey grunted and jumped into the truck. He wouldn't have much to do during this con, there was no way Mozzie or Neal would let him near Verbanski Corp. There was too much of a chance that someone would recognise him.

But, before that, there was a checklist of preliminary tasks that needed to be done.

* * *

Peter looked up at Agent Kramer stalked into his office. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the mentor he had known. This man was still brilliant, but he was using that brilliance to hurt people. Even though he had done wrong things, Neal didn't deserve this witch hunt. In Peter's opinion, there were worse criminals out there that Agent Kramer could be looking into.

"Where's Caffrey?" Not even a 'hello'.

"Hello, Phillip," Peter greeted him in a pleasant manner. He lifted his coffee cup in a mock salute. "How's the coffee?"

"Terrible." Finally, a sensible response from the man.

"So, what brings you to my office?" Peter asked, keeping up the charade. He was hopeful that Kramer would tell him about the transfer papers he had drawn up for Neal, the papers which would see Neal in DC with Kramer as his handler.

He didn't want to believe that his old mentor would be so underhanded as to keep him from knowing about them until the transfer was approved.

"Where's Caffrey? Shouldn't he be here by now?"

Peter suppressed a sigh. His smile drooped.

"Neal," he emphasised the con's name in order to annoy Kramer, "was taken to an NSA facility. An NSA agent came here to collect him."

"And you just let him go?"

"The paperwork checked out," Peter responded with a shrug. "I assumed they want Neal to appraise something for them."

"You didn't ask?"

"It was a matter of national security. Why?" he asked, giving Kramer an opening to tell him what was going on behind his back. "Is there something I should know?"

"No," Kramer responded, "inform me when Caffrey returns."

"Of course."

The door to his office closed and Peter slouched in his chair. His wife; and Neal, would scold him for it but he didn't care right now. Neal's choice to run and Kramer's continual lies and betrayal were hitting him hard.

There was a knock at his door. Diana.

"That's not good for your back, boss," she said, walking in. Apparently, his wife, Neal and Diana would scold him for it.

She placed a coffee cup from the place around the corner on his desk. Peter took it and sipped.

"That's good coffee," he said with a happy sigh.

"Figured you needed it," she responded, "Kramer thinks I'm in here getting information on where Neal really is."

"I don't know where Neal is," Peter responded. There was a distinct whine to his voice that he didn't really want to think about. "An NSA agent; or possibly a fake NSA agent, came and took him."

"The anklet?" Diana drew in a sharp breath as Peter pulled it out of the top drawer.

"He wouldn't let Neal keep it." There was a pause before Peter spoke again. "How did this happen, Diana? We're the FBI, we're supposed to work together. Not keep secrets and spy on each other. It's counterproductive."

"Sorry, boss." It was the only response Diana could come up with. Peter looked up at her; his eyes telling her that it wasn't her fault, and she knew she needed to rephrase before he spoke. "About Kramer. I know he used to be your mentor." She didn't even want to think about how she would feel if Peter had done something like this to her. If he had asked Jones to spy on her while he worked at putting one of her friends on a FBI leash indefinitely. But, Peter trusted her, he trusted everyone in his team; Neal included. And Kramer was eroding that trust.

It was like dealing with another Fowler; another corrupt FBI agent, but worse. Because Peter had once considered Kramer to be someone to look up to.

"Do you think we'll see Neal again?" she asked.

"I don't know."

* * *

Casey didn't know whether this plan would work. It seemed so simple, so basic, that he was certain Gertrude would have seen it coming.

Neal put the finishing touches on the order form, copying Gertrude Verbanski's signature with a flourish.

"There," he announced, "I doubt the woman herself would be able to tell the difference."

Casey had to admit, Larkin was really good at this. It was a skill that he had never thought to attribute to the no-nonsense spy he had known.

And, actually explaining what he was up to instead of leaving everyone guessing, that was a new one.

"Not your best work," Mozzie commented, leaving Casey to wonder what exactly Neal's 'best work' would be like.

"It'll do," Neal responded with a yawn. His chair was at an angle to the desk, mostly so that Neal could keep Casey in sight.

"Since we have time, think one of you could tell me what happened?" Mozzie asked.

"When?" Neal asked while Casey remained silent.

"When he shot you."

Neal went silent and paled slightly. He didn't like thinking about that.

Casey gave an amused grunt, almost like his laugh.

"Larkin went and stole something important, made himself traitor, and orders came in to shoot him on sight," he explained, "I shot."

"You didn't kill me," Neal responded, hearing the satisfied tone in Casey's voice. Casey had liked shooting the 'rogue CIA Agent', even though Bryce had acted in order to keep the Intersect out of enemy hands. Neal liked reminding him that he hadn't succeeded in killing him as it hurt Casey's professional pride.

"Alright, forget I asked," Mozzie said, stepping between the two. They glared at each other all the time and he wondered how long it would be before he would have to break up a brawl between them. In addition, to Mozzie's disappointment, neither of them were really forthcoming with information about Bryce's spy days. Mozzie knew next-to-nothing; Neal had been a spy named Bryce Larkin, he had done something bad and had stolen something important which got him shot. It was mostly stuff he had already known. Neal had gone to prison for 'doing something bad' and had, allegedly, stolen important stuff.

Neal and Bryce. Mozzie was slowly realising how the con worked; they had similar personalities. It was good. It meant that Bryce was as loyal to him as Neal was. His friend wouldn't sell him out to the government spies anytime soon.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

The truck pulled up outside Verbanski Corp. and two men hopped out. The guards stood to attention and blocked them from entering.

Neither of the men seemed particularly intimidating; short and bespectacled with a black toupee atop his head and the other one tall and thin with his delivery uniform hanging off his body and the uniformed cap atop his head.

They could be heard chatting as they walked up to the door.

"Can't believe we agreed to do this," the taller one commented. He took his cap off for a moment and wiped his forehead before placing it back on.

"Man, you know Wes and the boys are all lazy as," the short one responded, leaving the simile hanging as his hand flicked the air. "And Ms. Verbanski wants this job done quick."

"She has her own boys-" the taller one was cut off as the short one nudged him in the stomach.

"Good day, men," the short one said in a pleasant manner. He held out a clipboard. "We're here to pick up a delivery."

The two guards shared looks.

"We didn't hear anything about this," one of them said.

The taller delivery man spoke next.

"Tom, is it?" he said, taking the clipboard from his partner and holding it out for the guard to take. The guard nodded and took the clipboard. There was an order form attached to it. "Ms. Verbanski gave us orders to get out here and pick up something from her office. She wants it moved."

Tom flicked through the order form. The signature looked like Verbanski's and the instructions to pick up and deliver one of her mounted guns were her handwriting and the handwriting of someone else; a Robert Jones, either one of these men or their boss.

"Seems legit," the other guard muttered under his breath and he read over Tom's shoulder. He then turned to the two delivery men. "But, we can't let you into the compound."

"Oh, that's fine," the short one said, "one of you can go. As long as we get what we need to get and deliver it where it needs to go, I have no complaints."

The guards shared looks. There were a few moments of silence.

"You know what, Rob, how about you go get the box?" the taller delivery man said.

The short man nodded and began his walk back to the truck.

"Hold on," the other guard shouted. The short man just gave a wave and kept walking.

As the taller man waited, he took back the clipboard, flipped the page and began filling in another form.

"This just says that we turned up and did our job," he explained. He glanced up at the guards for a moment before muttering, "or tried to."

"Man, what are you doing?" the short man asked with panic in his voice when he returned. He was carrying a box just the right dimensions to hold the mounted gun.

"I'm not going to push it," the taller man said, "if she really wants this done, she's got her own guys. Maybe Tom or Aaron," he motioned to the two guards as he spoke their names. "Would be willing to take time off to deliver it."

"No way," the short one said with a shake of his head. "I'm not looking to vex Ms. Verbanski, not today; not any day. I like my job. And I like my pay check."

The guards shared another look.

"Alright," Tom said, as Aaron spoke into his communication device. "We'll get someone to bring it out."

"Thank you," the short one said in a short tone. The taller one just gave them an apologetic shrug.

Less than ten minutes later, the mounted gun was boxed up and taken away. Tom and Aaron breathed a sigh of relief as the truck drove away.

* * *

Casey ran his hand over his old gun. It helped, having this gun back in his possession rather than his ex-girlfriend's. It didn't heal the urge to punch something which was borne of heartache; not that he would ever admit it was heartache he felt or that he felt at all, but it helped.

"I still can't believe they fell for that," he said, looking over the Mozzie and Neal.

Mozzie bowed with a flourish while Neal just looked impassive.

"You'd be surprised," Neal said, "with the right circumstances, most people don't ask questions."

"Basically, we had their boss' signature and we were posing as a delivery company she has used before."

Casey made an appreciative hum and ran his hand back over the gun again.

"I also checked it for bugs and trackers," Mozzie informed him, "it's clean."

"Now we fix Larkin's problem," Casey announced.

* * *

Sarah straightened her skirt right as the elevator stopped at the twenty-first floor.

"Here we are," Chuck announced, stepping out. "FBI, White Collar division."

The couple walked through the glass doors and immediately noticed the tense air. FBI Agents were sitting at their desks, typing away, working away, and barely speaking.

Sarah's plan had been to walk up to the first desk by the door however, it was mysteriously empty. Chuck walked over to the desk and rubbed the head of the small statue bust.

"Socrates," he commented, "cool."

"Chuck," Sarah hissed at him, reminding him not to touch anything. They didn't know what the FBI might take offence to and they both wanted this over quickly. Sarah, because working with other agencies tended to get very messy at the best of times and Chuck, because he wanted to look around New York; since they were there.

A dark-skinned agent walked over to them and cleared his throat.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes," Sarah responded as Chuck snooped over the empty desk. She didn't know what had attracted him to it but, it bothered her how obvious he was being. "We're here to see Special Agent Peter Burke."

"His office is up there," the agent said, pointing to a clear-windowed office at the top of the bullpen stairs. He looked over at Chuck, who was twisting some pens in his hands. "And you?"

"Same," Chuck responded, "here to see Special Agent Peter Burke." He paused for a moment and then held out the pen. "Do you know who owns this?"

"That'd be Neal's," the agent responded. Sarah's heart sank at suspicious look which crossed his face for a moment.

"Neal?"

Sarah wanted to slap Chuck. Neal Caffrey was a felon on work release to the FBI, under Special Agent Peter Burke's supervision. They hadn't focused on learning about the felon but, Chuck should of at least recognised the name.

"Neal Caffrey," the agent said, "he's currently out of the office." Chuck deflated with disappointment. "Something wrong?"

"I wanted to know where he bought these," Chuck said, "they're high quality, fine line art pens, perfect for drawing." He saw the uninterested look Sarah was giving him and elaborated. "But they're really good for anything. Last longer than regular pens, don't blot or explode with ink," the ink in the last shirt that had happened to was still visible and everyone kept telling him to throw it out. "Nor do they run across the page. They're like the best pens ever. But, they're expensive back home."

The agent looked at them impassively for a moment and then gave a chuckle.

"Only Caffrey," he commented with a shake of his head. Only Neal would buy the best pens on the market. He held out his hand to Chuck. "Clinton Jones, just call me Jones. Everyone else does."

"Charles Carmichael. You can call me Chuck. Nice to meet you, Jones," Chuck said with his easygoing smile. Sarah smiled at him over Jones' shoulder. She didn't even think he realised that he had managed to get the trust of an FBI agent; the FBI tended to be very distrustful of anyone who wasn't one of them, in only a few moments. When he was already suspicious of them. It was quite a feat.

"I'll show you to Burke's office," Jones said, guiding Chuck out from around the desk and down towards the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

Peter Burke looked like a simple man. He was well-built, wearing an average suit and displaying a picture of himself and a woman who was probably his wife.

"That tie is ugly." The first words out of Chuck's mouth and they had to be insulting. He had intended to mutter them, but they had come out louder than intended in the silent office.

"I'll just leave here," Jones said, making a hasty retreat with a smile and laugh.

Peter looked up at them and shook his head. Sarah didn't miss the fond smile on his face.

"I like my tie," he responded, "it's a lucky tie."

Chuck's face lit up in an understanding expression as he nodded in agreement and took back his statement.

"Can't get rid of a lucky item," he agreed, "that creates bad luck." Wearing an ugly tie that is a lucky tie was okay with him.

Sarah gave him a disbelieving expression as he gave her a meaningful one. He knew she wanted him to throw out his lucky shirt and she knew he was going to bring this up the next time she insisted.

"You should tell my partner that," Peter said with a smile. He motioned for them to sit down and asked them about their business.

"I'm Sarah Carmichael-Walker and this is Charles Carmichael," Sarah introduced them and they held out their CIA IDs for the FBI agent to see. "We're here about your report. Something about a fake CIA badge?"

Agent Burke sighed and his posture changed. He sat up straighter and pulled his chair closer to the desk. There were bags under his eyes that made him look older than he was.

"The badge was found by Agent Phillip Kramer," he told them, passing them a file. It had a picture of 'Agent Kramer' and a picture of the ID.

"The name and picture are blacked out," Chuck commented, looking over at Peter.

"Yeah," Peter responded, "yeah. I've got an agent of mine on Kramer's team, she passed me what she could. That's all I got." It was a lie of course. Peter didn't want to reveal Neal's face or the alias he had been using in case it got him into trouble which Peter couldn't get him out of. Peter was going to protect Neal, since most of this had been his fault.

Peter had brought Kramer to New York to meet Neal.

"It looks real," Sarah commented, "but I couldn't say more unless we could get our hands on the actual badge. It's very good work." A worried frown plastered her face.

It looks real. Those words reminded Peter of what Neal had said a few days ago.

_'They're not fake.'_ Neal had said that to Mozzie and Mozzie had shot down the idea instantly.

"Is it possible, it could be real?" he asked, mostly to himself and partly to the agents in front of him.

Sarah passed the file to Chuck, hoping he would flash on something as she spoke to Agent Burke. She was the one who knew how this would work.

"You know, that if it's real, this could be more of a problem than one guy forging a CIA badge," she said, "if the person with the badge is CIA, then your agent has put one of ours in danger."

"I know," Peter said with a sigh. "I know that. And it is more likely that it is a fake than it being real. But, I know that Agent Kramer; who is not my agent, hasn't even considered the possibility. My gut tells me there's something more." If it was fake, Neal would go away. If it was real, then Kramer's actions could spark inter-agency war. Peter didn't know which was better.

"We'll look this over," Chuck said, "do what we do and then we'll get back to you."

* * *

Morgan flicked at his phone screen, tapping away at his newest downloaded game. He glanced up every now and then in order to check on Alex; who was chatting with the very bulky and intimidating man behind the counter about the best gun to use in certain situations.

He sometimes got lost watching her and wondering how he had landed such a marvellous woman; especially without getting killed by her father.

"Are you going to answer that?" she asked with a smirk as his phone rang.

"Hey, Chuck, how's it goin' with the FBI?" he answered, feeling his face flush in embarrassment.

"The guy who contacted us isn't the one on the case, so not as smoothly as it could have," Chuck responded, "how's your search going?"

Morgan glanced back and stepped away from Alex, not really wanting to risk her wrath if she overheard him.

"We've tried most of the gun shops and a few back areas that seemed really bad," he said with a slight whine in his voice. There had been a few times that day he had thought it was all over for him. Mostly, this was limited to meeting muscle-headed men in back alleys who hoarded guns in their trunks. Morgan was not happy about these men getting close to his wife either. Alex could handle herself, she had taken a self-defence class and had been the one to locate these people.

"Any luck?"

Morgan sighed and it was all the response Chuck needed. None of the people they had met had seen Casey or even heard of him being in New York. Morgan didn't understand how Alex could draw the last conclusion but she was better at this than he was. She did all the talking and he just waited for it to be over.

"Are we sure he's even in New York?" Morgan asked.

"Do you want to send Alex back to Burbank while you stay here to help us sort out the FBI?" Chuck asked. The only reason Alex had been allowed to come was that she was the one who knew where the gun shops were. Her mother wasn't as impressed as she constantly worried about her daughter following in her father's footsteps; they had believed the man dead until he popped back into their lives years ago as John Casey.

"No," Morgan responded, "I want my wife to stop shopping so that we can go get something to eat."

"You don't like New York, do you?" Chuck questioned. Morgan could hear the smile in his voice and it annoyed him.

"No, I do not like New York. There are cars and people everywhere," he said, "and I've gotten two calls from the Buy More. Lester called about holding a night concert there and Big Mike called about Lester."

"Sounds like nothing to worry about."

"It's everything to worry about, Chuck!" Morgan responded, "do you know what they get up to when you're not there? I'll be surprised if we find the Buy More standing when we get back."

"Worried about the kids?" Alex joked. Morgan jumped and hung up the phone on reflex. She laughed at his discomfort at being overheard. "Come on, we're meeting Chuck and Sarah for lunch."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

* * *

Peter thought that having CIA agents investigating would slow Kramer down. It hadn't. Kramer placed a file in front of him a little before lunch.

"I've managed to link Neal Caffrey to a number of different aliases and names," he announced. Peter noticed the smug tone in Kramer's voice. Showing his disapproval on his face, Peter skimmed the files. Arms dealing, terrorism, destruction of property, fraud;

"Assault and murder?" Peter read out in disbelief. He placed the file back on his desk. "How are you linking this to Neal? He's non-violent and anyone in my team could tell you that."

"I found a new alias Caffrey has been using," Kramer explained, "it seems he kept his worst aliases linked to this different name and not to Neal Caffrey. Now that I have his other alias, stuff like this keeps popping up." Kramer didn't mention the number of confidential and top secret files he had ignored during his investigation. "I've kept the aliases out of it." It was obvious that all the names had been blacked out. Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he had been around Neal too long.

"I don't know why you're telling me this," he said bitterly. All this meant was that Kramer could say that Peter wasn't a good handler for Neal, since he had missed it. He could suggested that Peter and his team had been taken in by the non-violent façade Neal presented.

Kramer could become Neal's handler. And he wasn't telling Peter any of this.

"I thought you would like to know what kind of man you've been working with."

Peter stood up and grabbed his jacket.

"Petey?"

"I've got a lunch date with El," he said, "and I'm going to be late." It was a weak excuse and a lie but he didn't think he could stand being in the same room as Kramer right now. He wanted to punch the guy.

He called El as soon as he was in the elevator. Thankfully, she was okay with the short notice about the lunch date. It was spontaneous, in her words.

* * *

The smell of pizza wafted around the table as the food was placed down. Morgan was practically drooling, diving into the nearest box as soon as it was in reach.

Chuck was slightly more restrained. He had enough self-control to let the women go first.

"We had no luck chasing down dad," Alex reported as she sunk into the soft seats of the booth. She was regretting her choice of high top boots as she could almost smell her feet from the sweat they had worked up while searching the streets of New York.

"Have you thought about getting the FBI to help?" Morgan suggested around his second pizza slice.

Sarah gave Alex a 'how do you put up with that' look as she responded;

"It's not a good idea to tell the FBI that we're looking for someone who's gone AWOL."

"Technically, he had leave," Chuck pointed out, countering her use of the term 'AWOL', "its just that it's out of character for him to take it."

"And now he's missing," Sarah pointed out, "why else haven't Alex and Morgan found him?"

"So, the FBI?" Morgan questioned again.

"Are likely to blow the whole thing out of proportion."

"And it makes you guys look bad," Alex suggested confidently. Sarah glared at her and she shrugged. "It's true, isn't it?"

"What about what you two were up to?" Morgan asked, instantly jumping in as peacemaker. Or 'avoid fight breaking out' maker.

Chuck dug the file out of his bag and passed it to Morgan.

"Agent Burke didn't give us much," Chuck explained.

"Aren't fake IDs his area anyway?" Alex asked as she moved onto her second slice of pizza. She successfully managed to snatch it from the pizza box in front of Morgan. He tried to swat her hand away; gently because she was his wife and her father could break him in two, but she was too quick. She passed the pizza to her plate and then used her other hand to move it away from Morgan so that he couldn't recapture it.

"Yes. But I think we walked into some internal departmental chest pounding thing," Sarah explained.

"Actually, Agent Kramer; the guy who's investigating the case, is a visiting agent from DC," Chuck explained.

"DC?" Morgan questioned, "what's he doing here?"

"Something about a missing U-boat," Chuck ignored Morgan's, 'the one with the Hitler clones' comment. "And stolen Nazi treasure."

"So the treasure part was real?" Morgan questioned, turning to Alex, who was the only one willing in indulge his moment of whimsy.

Alex shrugged and Chuck added;

"I can't find much between when the U-boat was discovered and the arrest but, the guy confessed after being charged with kidnapping."

"How is this relevant?" Sarah asked.

"I think they're hiding something from us."

* * *

The last thing Peter expected at seven pm was a phone call from CIA agents. But, Agent Carmichael's hesitant voice responded to his short, 'Agent Burke,', with an invite to lunch the next day.

"Get him out of the office," Sarah had suggested to Chuck, "some people talk more when they don't think their superiors are listening."

"A lunch with the CIA?" Elizabeth questioned, "how interesting." She tucked her arms around her husband, in a position about to hear the person on the phone speak.

Peter noticed that Agent Carmichael didn't come across as a confident speaker. He was professional, or as professional as an agent asking another agent to lunch in order to discuss a case could be, but hesitant. And Peter could swear he could hear Agent Walker in the background, giving instructions. But, he had his own parrot on his shoulder to worry about.

"They're the CIA," he explained to his wife, muting the phone for a moment. "They don't do lunch for the sake of lunch."

"Isn't this all to help Neal?" Elizabeth asked with a raised eyebrow. There was an excited tone to her voice that made Peter think that this isn't all about Neal. After all, Agent Carmichael had extended his invitation to his wife. "Plus, it's a good restaurant, Peter. You know how I've been wanting to go."

"This is a bad idea," Peter commented before resuming the call.

He agreed in the end because that's what good husbands do.

* * *

Elizabeth dressed like this was a date. She left instructions with Yvonne so she didn't have to worry about her business and picked up a harried Peter from work.

The agents were already seated when they arrived. They introduced themselves using their first names.

"So, Sarah, how did you and Chuck met?" Elizabeth asked as Peter read through the menu. She could almost see his veins popping at the prices. They were mid-range but more than they usually spent on lunch.

Sarah and Chuck shared a look.

"Sarah brought her phone in," Chuck explained in a slightly strained voice, "for me to fix. I worked with the nerd herd. I was a herd herder."

"He seemed like a nice guy, so I asked him out," Sarah continued, fiddling a little in response to her husband's nervousness. Chuck never did learn how to tell white lies properly. Ironically enough, the closer to the truth, the harder it was for him to sell the lie.

"Nerd Herder?" Peter questioned. El slapped him under the table.

"They're those guys from the Buy More who install and fix computers," she told him, "I told you about the time I had to call them in when I was in California."

Peter vaguely remembered that story. El had said that a speaker broke down and she needed to get it replaced. One of the locals suggested calling the Buy More computer staff.

"How does a Nerd Herder end up in the CIA?" he mused.

"That's classified," Sarah said.

"It's a long story," Chuck said right after, "a really long and confusing story."

Elizabeth leant forward, wanting to know more.

"Oh, there's Morgan," Chuck changed the subject as he waved his friend over.

Elizabeth and Peter shared a look as Morgan walked over. Peter was slightly reminded of Moz, if he didn't have glasses and had hair. El hadn't been expecting anyone else to join them.

"Hey, Chuck!" Morgan said. He walked over and pulled up a chair, dropping into it with little grace. He acted like they were in a fast-food place rather than a mid-scale restaurant. "Sorry I'm late."

"We didn't know you were coming," Elizabeth said with a smile, "hi, I'm Elizabeth Burke, Peter's wife."

"Morgan," he responded with a nod. He turned to Peter. "And you're Peter Burke, FBI. Nice to meet you."

Peter nodded while Sarah looked like she wanted to slap Morgan.

"Anyway," Morgan kept talking, "I just came to give my report and then I'll be heading back to the hotel. Alex got food poisoning from something so I've gotta go look after her."

"Oh no," Elizabeth said, feeling a burst of sympathy for Alex; even though she had never met her. Elizabeth had food poisoning before and it wasn't pleasant. "You should hurry back to her." Hopefully, Morgan was better at bedside manner than Peter was.

Morgan nodded in agreement before turning back to Chuck.

"Yeah, so no luck today either. It's like Casey just," he made a bursting motion with his hands, "'poof', vanished."

"Casey?" The name hit a cord with Peter. It didn't take him long to remember why; Peter automatically remembered anything related to Neal Caffrey. "John Casey?" The NSA agent who had picked Neal up.

The other agents' eyes seemed to light up. Morgan practically jumped in his seat. Chuck flicked through his phone and passed Peter a photo.

"You've seen this man?" he asked.

The picture showed the man Peter had met; no question about it. It seemed the more he tried not to worry about Neal, the more the world plotted to show him how much he should.

"He's not a criminal, is he?" Elizabeth asked, feeling the same worry open up a hole in her stomach.

"No, no, he's not a criminal." Chuck responded. His assurances did little to help. Morgan muttering, "depends who you ask," didn't help either. "He's a member of our team," Chuck added.

"He went off-grid a few days ago," Sarah informed them, "we know he came to New York, we just don't know why. When your request came through," she nodded at Peter, "we were chosen to take it mainly because Casey was already here."

"We didn't know the two instances were connected though," Chuck said.

Elizabeth had a theory, which she wanted to share with Peter but didn't want to talk about in front of these agents. She hadn't been able to contact Mozzie the past few days, which would have been normal except Neal and now this 'Casey' had gone off-grid as well.

When she brought it up to Peter that night, he seemed to agree.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

* * *

Neal, Mozzie and Casey were off-grid doing goodness knows what. Casey was connected to the CIA agents who had responded to the request Peter had Diana lodge. Elizabeth believed that Casey was the person Mozzie had called, "he did say he was a 'spy-suit'," and Peter agreed with her.

But, how did Neal fit into all this? Peter was missing something; he could feel it in his gut.

Peter had looked over Kramer's information connected to Neal; or 'Bryce'. It proved useless to him. The only way Peter knew it was connected to Neal was because Kramer had told him so. And Kramer could have been lying. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Boss."

"What?" Peter snapped which he immediately felt sorry about. Diana didn't deserve it. She had put herself in a position to gather information for him. She was doing more than him.

She didn't respond verbally, instead pointing at the entrance.

No. No, no, no. Peter's mind sprung up with about fifteen different ways to express 'no', just like a toddler in the middle of the tantrum, before he would allow himself to believe what he was seeing.

Neal was strolling into the office, as if it was an ordinary day.

"Thought he wasn't coming back," Diana commented. Even though she sounded cold to the casual observer, Peter noticed the slight hesitation in her voice before she spoke.

Peter hadn't stopped staring down at the vision of Neal, which was waving at Jones and chatting happily to the agent. Neal looked up a moment later and waved to him. His smile was perfect but, he had taken his hat off and placed it on his desk before chatting with Jones.

Did he believe this was over? Peter wanted to scoff. It was far from over.

"Keep Kramer from hearing about this," he ordered Diana, "get Jones to help you."

"Got it, Boss," she responded, moving out of the way as hurricane Peter passed out the door.

"Hi, Peter," Neal greeted. His conman smile softened for a moment and then his smile faded as he noticed the unmoving expression on Peter's face. Somewhere between shocked and horrified.

"We're going to interview a suspect," he announced, nodding to Jones as he placed a hand on Neal's shoulder.

"Ooh, jewellery theft?" Neal questioned, "bank robbery?"

"Didn't you get the news while you were locked away in a government bunker?" Jones quipped, "there's only mortgage fraud and cold cases."

Neal's face drooped.

"Not mortgage fraud?" he questioned, sounding heartbroken. He didn't want anything to do with mortgage fraud. It was dull, boring and had tons of paperwork; Neal feared for the future of the trees and forests where the paper came from.

"Not mortgage fraud," Peter responded with a sigh.

* * *

The previous night, two different conversations took place at two different locations, connected by case matter.

The first took place in a comfortable hotel room with soft beds and fluffy carpet.

The second took place in a hidden location; a storage container hidden among other storage containers. There was a bed, a table, four chairs and a couch.

* * *

Sarah sat on the bed in Morgan and Alex's hotel room while Chuck sat at a small, round table with his laptop open.

The sound of Alex retching sounded sporadically through the room. Sarah's heart clenched in sympathy at the sound. Chuck had tuned it out as he worked.

Morgan walked out of the room and collapsed on the bed. Thankfully, they were long past the days where Sarah would have to wonder what stunt he was pulling on her.

"Kill me now," Morgan groaned, "I don't think I'll ever eat again."

"Think about how Alex must feel," Sarah reminded him.

"I've been doing that all day." Morgan breathed a sigh of relief. He had made her a hot bath; no bubbles as Alex couldn't stand them right now, and she was resting in it. They could only hope that the heat and water would help to abate some of the symptoms. "I'm in serious need of 'me' time."

Sarah shook her head, but she really shouldn't judge. She knew what it was like to need time alone.

"Chuck, buddy, done yet?" Morgan asked. He didn't get a reply.

Chuck typed away on the keyboard, hacking his way through the FBI files. He was in the zone; a place where he was going to ignore everything in the outside world unless someone distracted him.

Morgan gave Sarah the puppy-dog eyes. She rolled her in return and got up to distract Chuck, it was time for him to report what he had found.

"I managed to find a picture of Neal Caffrey," Chuck reported after sharing a kiss with his wife. "Along with the information the FBI placed on his CI badge."

"CI's get a badge?" Morgan questioned, turning the computer for a better look.

"Why are you looking into Burke's CI?" Sarah asked.

"Because Casey took him for some reason. I'm hoping something in Neal's file will tell us why."

"Well, take your pick," Morgan said in an impressed tone of voice, "he's a thief, a forger and a con artist. Convicted of bond forgery and suspected of hundreds of thefts."

"That is quite a list," Sarah responded, impressed in spite of herself.

"That's what I found on Google," Chuck responded, "the FBI has a much long list of suspected crimes. Much, much longer."

"I hope he didn't steal from the Buy More," Morgan commented. He misinterpreted the looks Sarah and Chuck gave him. "I'm sure he probably didn't. If he did, can we press charges?" They hadn't moved. Morgan slammed his hand on his knee. "I knew I shouldn't have left him alone! Suspicious guy all in black-"

"Wait!" Chuck said, stopping Morgan's rant. "When did Neal Caffrey come into the Buy More?"

"Since when do con men shop at the Buy More?" Sarah questioned sceptically.

Morgan looked confused for a moment.

"Uh, years ago," he said, "I thought he was Bryce Larkin at first. Came in looking at TVs during the Black Friday sales; the one where we evacuated the store because of the gas leak."

"Morgan," Sarah groaned, "that was Bryce."

"Really?" Morgan said in a surprised voice, "'cause, I thought he was dead."

"That was after he got revived the first time and before he died the second time."

"Oh."

Chuck had stopped moving as they spoke. Completely frozen his mind passed over the past few days and what Sarah was saying.

_That was after he got revived the first time... _he knew she had said it for clarification, or maybe it was just the slip of the tongue, but it allowed Chuck to connect the dots.

The FBI had a CIA badge; they thought it was false and Agent Burke suspected it was real. Agent Burke had a CI who looked suspiciously like Bryce. Chuck didn't flash, but that might just mean that Neal's image and name didn't match those in the Intersect.

Casey had collected Neal from the FBI office. Casey had possibly come to New York because of Neal Caffrey.

Neal Caffrey seemed to be at the centre of it all.

Yet, they hadn't met him. They had heard about him but hadn't seen him.

"That does seem odd," Sarah said hesitantly as he brought it up. She didn't want Chuck getting his hopes up, only for them to be dashed.

Chuck knew he was getting hopes up over this. The idea that Bryce might be alive was overwhelming, not matter how he tried to keep it check. The man had died in front of him, because of something his father had created.

If Chuck had said 'yes' to General Beckman; agreed to join the Intersect Project when she asked instead of grasping at a 'normal' life, he might have been able to help. The 'what ifs' sometimes kept him up at night. Those first few nights after Bryce died had provided him with his worst nightmares ever.

They discussed their next step quickly as it had been a long day.

* * *

Mozzie disinfected everything Neal or Casey touched. It was frustrating but, Neal knew that he was lucky Moz was letting him into any of his safe houses.

Casey sat at the table where his mounted gun had been placed. He hadn't removed the gun from the mount but he wouldn't let it out of his sight either.

Neal wriggled on the plastic wrap Moz had placed over his chair.

Mozzie was sitting across from them with a wine glass in his hands, looking as content as a Mozzie facing two government agents could be.

"I quit the CIA, Mozzie," Neal couldn't help reminding him when his friend grouped him with Casey.

"Which was insane," Moz responded, "who gives up being CIA only to make a deal with the FBI?"

"The little guy has a point," Casey commented with a grunt of amusement.

"Stop ganging up on me!" Neal protested, "we're supposed to be getting Kramer off my tail!"

"I could always just shoot him," Casey suggested.

"No," Neal and Moz responded at once.

"No guns," Neal added.

"He's a fed!" Moz protested, "you don't kill feds! They're like roaches, you kill one and before you know it, they're everywhere!"

"Either of you have any suggestions?" They were silent and Casey gave another grunt of amusement. "No wonder the FBI got a hold of your badge," he goaded to Neal.

"It's not my fault Kramer cracked the code," Neal responded, not completely taking the bait, "I used one of the Company's ciphers mixed with something of my own, it shouldn't have been crackable."

"So, how did he crack it?" Mozzie asked before taking a sip of his wine.

"I don't know."

"You think, maybe, he's in contact with another spy-suit. Or maybe just a spy." Mozzie had a point.

"We need to find out who he's been speaking with," Casey said, "if someone from the CIA is selling information like that, we need to take them down."

"YOU need to take him down," Mozzie corrected, "it's a job for you two, not me."

Casey shrugged. He didn't care whether Mozzie helped or not.

Neal cared. He knew that he wouldn't be the person he was today without Mozzie. Actually, he would probably be dead. Mozzie had helped him improve his skills to a legendary level and he protected him when things were tough. Mozzie was always there.

Bryce didn't have Mozzie and he died twice. Bryce tried to protect Chuck and got his friend kicked out of Stanford, mistakenly thinking he would land on his feet.

"Moz, I really could use your help with this," Neal said.

Mozzie thought about it for a moment.

"Fine. But, I will remain behind the curtain. No Man In Black will catch me."

"Fine," Casey agreed before Neal could, "let's just get this done."

* * *

**Author's note: **Just thought I'd clarify, 'the Company' is a nickname for the CIA which I borrowed from another show.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

* * *

There was a knock at the door of the Burke's house. It wasn't Neal, who tended to let himself in when he knocked. It wasn't Mozzie or any of Peter's co-workers.

"Oh, Chuck and Sarah," Elizabeth commented, surprised by their presence on her doorstep, "what brings you two here?"

Chuck shuffled nervously as Sarah spoke in a definitive tone;

"There's something we need to talk to you about," she said, "might we come in?"

Elizabeth let them in. While it was strange to see the CIA agents her husband had contacted, she figured it was some kind of CIA background or personality check.

"What can I help you with?" she asked as she guided them towards the kitchen. "And would you like some tea?"

"Yes," Chuck said, responding to the offer of tea.

"Not right now," Sarah said, glancing back at her partner. "We just wanted to ask you some questions about your husband's work." Which was their cover for asking questions about Neal Caffrey. If he was Bryce, as Chuck seemed to believe; and Sarah cursed Morgan for putting that idea in their heads, then they didn't want to put him under suspicion or in danger.

Chuck stopped in front of the buffet cabinet. Pictures decorated the top and on picture in particular drew his attention. It was of Agent Burke and Neal Caffrey. They were dressed in suits and looked a little like they were going to an awards ceremony; or a prom.

The familiar feeling a flash drew him to the picture. His eyelids fluttered as his brain processed the information from the Intersect.

It seemed like the Intersect did have some information on Neal Caffrey. But, it had more information on Bryce Larkin. Both brought up and linked together by the image in the photo. In the photo, Neal smiled just like how Bryce had back at Stanford.

The picture slipped from Chuck's fingers and smashed on the ground, drawing the attention of the two women.

"Chuck?" Sarah questioned, focusing on him as Elizabeth quickly took care of the fallen and cracked picture.

Chuck was breathing heavily as he tried not to freak out. Bryce was alive, alive and in New York.

Just then, a protest sounded from the entrance, "seriously Peter, what is going on?"

* * *

Neal was beginning to slightly regret his decision to go back to the office while Mozzie and Casey looked into Kramer's contacts. He had thought that Peter would be getting suspicious after a few days of no contact and part of him wanted to go back and work with the FBI agent, to tell Peter everything and solve it with his help. Peter was smart; for all he acted otherwise outside the office.

Although there was no justifying his taste in ties. Not that Peter wanted to hear that from him.

Instead of talking about the 'new case'; and Neal was beginning to suspect that there were no new cases that required talking to suspects, Peter just drove and told Neal to be quiet.

Neal caught the suspicious glances and even tried to defend himself; there was no way he could have done whatever it was Peter thought he had done, but Peter wasn't listening to him.

They parked in front of the Burke's house and Peter practically shoved him through the door.

"Seriously Peter, what is going on?"

"Bryce?" the name gave Neal pause. It was spoken softly, but loud enough to be heard in the quiet after Neal's protest. The voice was a familiar one, one that shouldn't have been in New York.

What was Chuck doing in Peter and Elizabeth's home? Oh, and Sarah too.

Neal turned to Peter, feeling betrayed. The feeling abated slightly when he saw the confusion on Peter's face.

"El? What are the Agents Carmichael doing here?"

"Agent Carmichael?" Neal smirked at Chuck.

"No, no, no, no," Chuck scolded, "you do not get to say anything." Neal didn't. He burst out laughing instead. Chuck flushed. "It was the first name I thought of!" he defended.

"Neal," Peter scolded, giving him a slight slap on the back.

"Sorry, hun," Elizabeth said, "they just came for a chat and I didn't think you'd bring Neal here."

"He got back this morning," Peter informed her. Apparently, the one place he thought it would have been safe to talk to Neal; home, hadn't been a good place to pick. Maybe Mozzie had the right idea, meeting people in public places like the park.

"I'll start tea," Elizabeth said, "perhaps you all should sit down and talk, before Neal stops breathing."

She had a point. Neal gave a few final chuckles as he took deep breaths to calm down.

"I really, really didn't expect to find you two here," he commented.

"Same here," Sarah commented, slightly pale at the sight of her deceased ex-boyfriend. She didn't think she had ever heard Bryce laugh like that.

"I want a few answers first," Peter said as they stared each other down. "I've been patient enough." Neal nodded in agreement. He looked over the Chuck and Sarah, hoping they could be a little more patient with him.

"Alright," Sarah agreed, "what do you want to know?"

"Tell me about him," Peter said, pointing at Neal who was smiling his trademark conman smile.

"Well, we know him as Bryce Larkin," Sarah explained, "a deceased CIA agent." She shot him a glare. Just remembering his death felt like poking a hole in her heart. "He was the Agent in Charge of the Intersect Project and was killed by members of a group known as the Ring."

"We disbanded them, by the way," Chuck felt compelled to add, "so, they won't be coming after you."

"Agent in Charge," Peter mumbled under his breath. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "So, he's really a CIA agent?" he asked in a louder voice.

"We'll have to run some tests to test his identity," Sarah said. She looked at Chuck, who shrugged. Chuck believed he was Bryce and he was the one with the supercomputer in his head. It was enough to confirm his identity for her. "But, Bryce Larkin was a CIA agent."

"Can we not?" Neal questioned, "I'd really rather Beckman doesn't find me."

"It's non-negotiable, Bryce," Sarah responded in a hard voice. It didn't hurt to let him see how she was slightly annoyed at him. "Especially if it's your badge that's throwing the FBI into disarray."

Neal sighed.

"This answers a lot of questions," Peter mused, "but also raises more."

Chuck gave Peter an incredulous look.

"Really? I'm just confused. Like, how did you arrest him?"

Peter seemed surprised by the question while Neal froze.

"Peter, no," Neal said and Peter's smile grew. "Don't tell them. Please."

"Look at that," Peter commented in a teasing tone, "the great Neal Caffrey; begging."

"This isn't begging," Neal insisted, "this is asking nicely. Besides, all they need to know is that I might have created some bonds which weren't exactly legal."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Why would you do that?" Sarah asked, "couldn't it have endangered your position with the CIA?"

Neal pulled a paper napkin towards him and began folding it.

"Maybe that was the idea. But, I met someone who wanted me to help him with something."

"Mozzie, and the long con on a wealthy businessman," Peter explained simply.

"And you agreed?" Sarah couldn't believe it. Sure, she had grown up pulling cons with her father but that was with her father. Someone she could trust not to stab her in the back.

Neal nodded and tugged at the wings of the origami swan he made. He passed it to Chuck who accepted it gratefully.

"So, who's Mozzie?" Chuck asked.

Neal looked up, surprised.

"You don't know? I thought you did, since Casey knows him."

Sarah just looked blank.

"Is he related to 'The Dentist of Detroit'?" Chuck questioned, "Beckman was worried about what he might ask Casey to do in return for information."

"Mozzie's harmless," Neal insisted, defending his friend without hesitation.

"He is 'The Dentist of Detroit'," Peter informed them, "mostly. 'The Dentist' just got blown out of proportion. Moz isn't violent." He left out that non-violence was a choice for Mozzie and that the little guy had no qualms about hiring people to do violent acts of revenge for him.

"You can just report that he doesn't pose any kind of threat to Casey or the CIA," Neal said with a glare at Peter. "Mozzie isn't the problem here." He explained their suspicions about someone giving Kramer information on Bryce Larkin.

"This is something we should report to the General," Chuck said, sounding hesitant about it.

* * *

**Author's notes: **I feel I need to mention that this story focuses more on the interaction between characters. So, if you're here for fighting and shot-outs, I'm probably going to disappoint you.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

* * *

"This is something we should report to the General," Chuck said, sounding hesitant about it. Neal's eyes narrowed and his hands clenched the edge of the table.

"Can't you just go in and tell Kramer to stop investigating?" Peter asked. He didn't think he had ever seen Neal look so cornered. That Neal was trying to hide it and he could still see it, worried him. Suddenly, the stuff Mozzie said about being locked away or killed didn't seem so silly any more.

Sarah shook her head.

"I don't think he'll give up easily. He didn't even contact the CIA about his find. If he had, we would have told him then to give up."

"Bryce can't be charged, can he?" Chuck asked. The show of concern from his old friend made Neal calm down a little.

"Not if he was working as a CIA operative," Sarah responded as if this was something Chuck should know.

"I'd rather go back to prison than deal with the CIA," Neal said in the stalled silence that followed.

The other three exploded; wanting to know why and surely it would be better than going back to prison, they fired their questions all at once and Neal flinched back.

The noise was loud enough that Elizabeth felt compelled to intervene. She stepped into the room and glared at each of them. Then she smiled at Neal.

"I guess you really hated your job," she commented.

Neal's lips parted but he nodded in response. Sarah could understand his choice as there were things she hadn't liked about the job, but she had also met Chuck because of it and she couldn't imagine doing anything else.

"But, you were really good spy," Chuck protested. Being a spy had changed his life; in a good way, and he didn't even want to think of giving it up again.

"And I'm an even better conman," Neal responded with a smile. It had been his first smile since the issue had been brought up. "Besides, I like my work with the FBI."

"Even though everyone thinks you're a criminal?" Chuck questioned.

"I am a criminal. Chuck, I didn't go to prison because of anything I did with the CIA or because of some injustice. Peter was able to prove that I did something illegal and that makes me a criminal."

"Alright, stop," Sarah said as Chuck opened his mouth to speak again. "Chuck, drop it. Bryce, you don't have to come back to the CIA."

"Uh, what?" He didn't have to go back? "You'll keep this a secret then?"

"No."

He didn't understand. He knew too much and he knew it. There was no way they would just let him go.

At Sarah's command, Chuck turned his laptop so that Neal could see the screen.

"General." The breath caught in Neal's throat. His hands dropped to his lap where they clenched together out of sight. The line of his jaw tensed. He looked up at Chuck and Sarah, who both seemed okay with this. The General had been listening, possibly the whole time.

Was there something going on here that he didn't understand or had the CIA really changed Chuck; so much that he'd turn someone over to them without second thoughts?

"I've been briefed on most of what's going on here," General Beckman explained, "if Agent Kramer of the FBI is getting access to our secret files, we need to find out how."

"Casey's looking into it," Sarah pointed out.

Beckman nodded.

"As for Agent Larkin." Neal stilled, his smile frozen on his face. "If you do not want to work for the CIA, then fine. But, you will assist Chuck and Sarah with this mission."

"That's it?" Neal questioned, tired of waiting for the punishment to be announced.

"You've been missing for a few years and we've only found you by a stroke of luck," Beckman said moving her shoulders lightly. Almost like a shrug. "I don't believe you pose any security threat. And should anything happen, I'm sure the FBI will search high and low for you."

"That's for sure," Peter grumbled from next to Neal. He had momentarily forgotten that the other man was there.

"So, you're Team Bartowski's problem. Let them decide what to do with you. Good luck." With that said, the screen went dark.

Neal sat in shock. So, that was it? He was free?

* * *

This was a Neal that Peter had never seen before. He looked almost listless as they waited for the news to sink into his head.

"So, that's it?" Neal's first words after the chat with General Beckman were flat, as if he couldn't put much emotion behind them. It oddly reminded Peter of the time after Kate died.

"That's it," Sarah said with a shrug. "Of course, we still need to catch the leak."

'Catching the leak' was more like 'waiting for news'. Peter couldn't imagine Neal doing this with the CIA for years. Neal could barely do it now. He fiddled, twitched and tapped, a barely suppressed a bundle of energy.

Peter, Neal and Chuck went back to the FBI offices while Sarah went to Neal's place in order to catch up with Casey when he returned there to give his report.

Peter had them both in his office, which was thankfully just large enough for all three of them to work in comfort. Mostly.

Neal; sitting across from Peter, was stuck with Mortgage Fraud and complained about it every time he looked up from the page. Peter was working similar cases and had little sympathy for him.

Chuck was in the FBI database, finding out as much information about Kramer as he could. They were both very jealous. Neal had even said, 'why does Chuck get the cool job?' but had quickly back-pedalled when Chuck said he could have it; provided he could move through the database without leaving a trail as well as adhere to a long list of things not to do with Agent Carmichael's laptop, which included a lot of technical jargon that Peter didn't understand.

"Chuck, I haven't hacked a computer since the Intersect," Neal had pointed out sometime during the list, "and we all know what happened there."

Which added Rule #23 to the list; 'do not get shot near the computer,' which Chuck stressed, and Rule #24; 'do not destroy the computer with a killer program.'

Peter was a little annoyed that getting shot topped hacking, but he had no control of Chuck's list.

"Should I add hacking to your list of skills?" he asked Neal instead.

* * *

It was a little after lunch when Casey finally called him with a picture. Kramer was meeting a tall, slightly balding man in a coffee shop for drinks. Casey also told him to call the little guy and tell him that the 'killer beauty' otherwise known as Sarah, wasn't out to kill him.

"He also told me to tell you that someone you call 'Repo' is there."

Thankfully, the man was in the Intersect; his name was 'Evan York' and he was a ex-CIA agent and member of Fulcrum who vanished when the hostile espionage organisation and splinter group to the Ring was revealed and purged.

A search through the FBI database found that he was also wanted in three other states for various violent crimes.

Peter sent Jones and Diana to arrest him and bring him in for questioning. He was going follow Neal, who had suddenly decided to go home.

* * *

**Author's notes: **I just wanted to give a shout-out to reviewer _Kaya_; just wanted to let them know that I really enjoy reading their reviews! (_Sorry I'm not more eloquent, but it's getting late where I live and my brain is starting to shut down._)


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

* * *

Peter was surprised when Chuck followed him and Neal. Neal wanted to go home for some reason and Peter; suspicious as always, offered to give him a lift.

They had just had a major breakthrough and Neal wanted to leave.

Peter tried to remind himself to not be suspicious but, there was a ball of worry in his gut. He was scared that he would lose Neal after all this, not that he was willing to admit that to himself.

Chuck seemed to be worried about his wife. Neal wanted to go home and Sarah was there.

"I'm sure she's fine," was all Neal would say on that matter.

"Are you okay?" Chuck asked. Neal was looked strangely pale. He was also very still, for Neal, and quiet.

Peter pulled up outside of June's and Neal jumped out. Peter swore and hurried to follow him while Chuck stared at the building for a moment.

"Come on!" Peter said to him, following Neal into the building and up the stairs.

"I don't care who you are! I'm not leaving until I see Neal!" Sara Ellis' voice was firm, stubborn and audible from the stairs.

"We're in the middle of a very important mission right now," Sarah Bartowski's voice was just as firm and just as audible. Peter glanced back at Chuck and the other man gave him a weak smile.

"And you can't tell me anything?" Sara said in a demanding tone. It sounded like she had heard that before.

"That would be correct."

Peter reached the entrance to Neal's apartment, stopping as Neal stood right in front of the door; hesitating.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"I don't want to go in there," Neal admitted.

"Why?" Chuck said, in something that sounded slightly like a whine. Now that they weren't hurrying, he was panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

As if in response, Sara screeched, "I already told you, I'm not leaving!"

"Neal, get inside," Peter ordered.

There was a crash and Peter's FBI training kicked in. He pushed past Neal to open the door. He found Sara Ellis with her baton in hand and Sarah Bartowski with a gun in hand and pointed at the other woman.

Both women turned to him, weapons also moving to aim at him. Sara's face turned to cheer as she realised who had just entered.

"Peter! This woman has a gun! She's trying to make me leave! Where's Neal?"

"Agent Burke, this woman entered without permission. She's disrupting our operation."

A nervous smile twitched onto Peter's face. He could only describe this as 'walking into the lion's den' and he now knew what Neal was trying to avoid.

Peter turned back to the door, but was unable to see Neal or Chuck.

"Neal!" he bellowed, hoping that the other man hadn't run off. "Get in here! If you left, I'll send you back to prison!"

"Peter, that hurts," Neal commented, walking through the door as if he just arrived there and hadn't been listening from the top of the stairs. "I thought we were beyond 'back to prison' threats by now."

Peter glared at him and jerked his head in the direction of the two women. 'Look at what you let me walk into,' he conveyed silently.

"Neal!" Sara said, glad to see him. She lowered her baton.

"Care to explain who this is?" Sarah asked in an annoyed tone, "and why she has a key to your apartment?"

"Excuse me?" Sara questioned in an offended tone. "And who are you, anyway?" She turned to Neal. "Please don't tell me she's your rebound girl."

Peter saw a vein in Neal's neck jump and his ears tint red. Behind him, Chuck snorted.

"This isn't funny, Chuck," Neal barked, embarrassed.

"Rebound girl?" Sarah squeaked, offended. She turned to Chuck, imploring him with her eyes to say something.

"Hi, I'm Chuck." Chuck held out his hand for Sarah to shake. "And that's my wife, Sarah Bartowski. We're spies. With the CIA." He waited a moment for it to sink in, and then asked in a quiet tone, "so, are you Neal's girlfriend?"

"Chuck!" Sarah and Neal barked at the same time. Sara, on the other hand and to Neal's horror, blushed slightly.

"Sara Ellis, insurance investigator," she said.

Chuck's eyebrow rose at the name and he turned to Neal. Sarah and Sara?

"Whatever you're thinking, that isn't it," Neal defended, "it's a coincidence."

"So, how do two CIA agents know Neal?" Sara asked.

"Bryce Larkin," Peter responded, slightly cursing the name. "He was an agent with the CIA."

"Really?" Sara didn't sound convinced. "What's the CIA want with a conman and thief?"

"The CIA came first," Neal pointed out, "then the cons."

All eyes turned to him and the room went silent at the unexpected information he revealed.

* * *

Casey glared at the man beyond the two-way glass. He knew Evan York couldn't see him, but the man had to know that there were people beyond the mirrors.

"Stupid FBI," Casey grumbled under his breath as Agent Jones asked another question which would get them nowhere.

They were useless questions; ones about the former crimes and making him aware of what the FBI had on him. Casey could see that York wasn't even the least bit scared of them. York sat there, relaxed. They guy even yawned a few times!

None of this would help them with Larkin and Kramer.

"Let me question him," Casey growled at Agent Berrigan. The FBI woman stood there with her arms crossed against her chest and her gaze level with his.

"I don't care if you're NSA, we arrested him and no one gets to see him until Agent Burke returns," she responded.

Casey pointed at Agent Jones and she just raised an eyebrow. Casey sneered. He let out a low growl. Casey tried to lift her gun and she stepped back and out of reach.

"Touch my gun and I'll break your hand," she informed him. She had let Neal pick her pocket a few times as it was good training for countering pickpockets.

Casey pulled out his phone and rang Larkin. When he didn't pick up, Casey rang Mozzie instead.

"Where's Larkin?" he barked into the phone, before the little guy could say anything. Knowing the little guy, he probably had a voice changer all ready to go.

There was a groan from the other end and some clicking as things were moved around.

"He's in his apartment."

Casey growled. He was supposed to be in the office, in order to make it easier for Casey to get access to York and pressure Kramer.

"Get him."

"Look, I don't know if you know, but I'm not going out there," Mozzie responded, "it's Armageddon, Doomsday, the Apocalypse! Its-"

"Get your hairless head out there and give the phone to Larkin," Casey interrupted, "and then you can run to whatever little hole you haul yourself up in when you're not working."

"You don't have to be mean about it. Also, I don't work," Mozzie responded, "work is a concept created-"

"Hop to it, Mozman!" Agent Barrigan looked at him strangely as he said that and he couldn't blame her.

There was a grumble on the other end and then a burst of sound. Casey could hear Sarah in the background, acting unprofessional, and Larkin trying to defend himself and some other woman's voice. It didn't take much to guess what was happening.

"Look Sara," he said, "it's not like I was hiding that I was CIA or anything, I quit." A pause. "And Sarah, I didn't tell you about the conning and stealing because you'd probably shot me if I did."

"I still might," Sarah responded.

"Neal?" Mozzie intervened, "I have a very angry Trigger Suit on the phone."

"'Trigger Suit'?" Neal questioned as the phone changed hands, "sounds about right."

"If you're done handling your women problems, get yourself back here," Casey growled darkly into the phone.

"It can wait, can't it?"

"No. The FBI can't keep him a secret forever, you idiot. If your Agent Kramer finds out about him, we could spook the guy. I would like to get something out of this trip."

"You got your gun back," Neal responded in a deadpan tone. "And you're doing this as a favour to Mozzie."

"Casey, Beckman wants us to find the leak," Chuck said, having taken the phone from Neal. "We need to know if Evan is the guy telling Kramer everything."

"They won't let me interrogate him," Casey reminded him.

There was a hushed conversation on the other end. Casey waited, not so patiently, and Agent Jones left the room and reported to Diana.

"Let him think we're after Neal Caffrey," Chuck said after a few moments.

"What?"

"Let him think we're chasing Neal Caffrey. Imply he told something from the CIA."

"He did steal something from the CIA," Casey reminded him, hearing Larkin in the background remind Chuck of the same thing. "And it's in your head, you moron."

"Okay, so he stole something. Just don't mention the 'in my head' part. See what he tells you or gives you."

"And see if it matches top secret information," Casey realised, "that's actually a good idea for once."

Silence. Then, "it was really Neal's idea." And Casey's natural order of things was restored.

"One problem though, I can't get in to speak with him."

"Give Agent Barrigan or Agent Jones the phone," Chuck directed.

Casey handed the phone to Agent Jones; he didn't like Agent Barrigan. The agent's face turned to the frown as he listened to whatever the person on the other end was saying. He asked for confirmation; and then let Casey into the room.

Let the fun begin, Casey thought with a rare smile.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Casey does not like Chuck Bartowskis or Bryce Larkins messing with the plan (they were supposed to be there, not back at the apartment). However, Casey does like interrogating traitors.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

* * *

Neal never thought he would be happy to hear Casey's voice. It seemed that Casey's phone call attracted the attention of everyone and distracted them from what had been going on before.

He looked over at Sara, who was probably the only one not distracted by what was going on.

"The guy Kramer's getting his information from is selling me out," Neal explained, "since I'm a," he paused and corrected himself, "since I was a CIA agent, the information he's giving up is supposed to be secret."

"So, you can arrest him?" Sara questioned.

Neal nodded.

"Well, they'll arrest him," he said, pointing at Chuck and Sarah.

"And how does this help you with Kramer?"

"Hopefully we can flip him on Kramer," Neal explained, "if that doesn't work, Casey and Moz have pictures of the two meeting. With that evidence in hand, we'll be able to confiscate Kramer's evidence."

"We might even be able to arrest him," Chuck pointed out.

Peter twitched and Neal deflated.

"Can't we just send him back to DC?" Neal questioned with a frown. To Sara and Peter, this request wasn't a surprise. Neal didn't like arresting people who hadn't committed crimes and, in his eyes, Kramer was just looking out of Peter. Neal believed that there were many agents who thought the same things as Kramer; that Neal had managed to con Peter and his team. Kramer was just willing to do something about it.

Peter was ready to tell Neal why it might be necessary and to remind Neal about Kramer's plans for him. Peter knew that Kramer wasn't acting out of concern.

"That might not be an option." Chuck was the one who spoke. His voice was calm but his dark eyes were stormy. His mouth was twisted with worry. "The General agreed to not pursue you but, she might want him."

"Please don't tell me that the CIA might want Kramer," Neal said in a disgusted tone.

"What if they did?" Chuck asked, "would you do something then?"

"I don't get it," Sara admitted to Peter in a low voice. Peter shrugged as well.

Neal knew that his answer was 'no'. If Kramer caught the eye of the CIA, then he brought it upon himself. Besides, being FBI gave Kramer an edge over the average person. It wasn't like he was a college student who caught their eye because he had high test scores, Kramer probably knew what he was getting into- "Oh," and Neal got it. "Still, if we don't have to arrest him, can't we just send him back to DC? Then, if he tries something, we arrest him."

"It would be a good idea," Sarah admitted, "especially if Agent Kramer knows other rogue agents."

Neal frowned slightly since it wasn't what he was suggesting. Chuck agreed that it was a good plan, as long as they weren't the agents sent in to monitor him.

"I think we need to have a talk," Sara said to Neal.

"Can it wait?" Neal asked. He had a feeling that this talk wouldn't be about anything good. "We kind of need to get back to the office."

The look she sent him told him that it couldn't, not completely. Peter pointed out that they had more time as Casey was doing what had originally been planned as Peter's job.

* * *

Sara led Neal out to the balcony. Her face was unreadable, with the same determined frown she had back when they met with him on the anklet. Back when he wanted something from her and she was trying to figure out what.

It wasn't very encouraging.

"So, the CIA badge was real," she commented.

"Yeah," Neal responded. It was old news by now; it wouldn't surprise him if Jones and Diana even knew.

"You used to arrest bad guys." Neal nodded. "And you gave it up?"

"The CIA is not the FBI," Neal said. He hated the way his voice went flat, the way his head started reminding him of why he wanted to leave with very detailed recall. "It's all one big con. They make you think you can make a difference and sometimes you do, but something breaks in the process. I broke. Just ask Chuck."

She turned to look at him with at strange look. It was a soft look, something he had never seen on her face before.

"Better yet, if you ever meet him, you should ask Morgan. He's very; vocal, about me." Neal smiled sadly as he remembered that day in the Buy More. Morgan approached him, although he managed to convince him that he wasn't Bryce, and started telling him about how he viewed Bryce Larkin; the man who ruined Chuck's life.

"What about that other Sarah?" she asked, the frown returning.

Neal walked to the edge of the balcony and looked over. He had spotted something that gave him pause but he also heard Sara's question.

"I won't lie to you, we did date," he said. He heard her draw in a sharp breath. "But, we weren't right for each other. She loved Chuck, I longed for Kate. You were right, she was my rebound. Kate left me and I was paired with Sarah, who's the complete opposite of Kate."

"And you started dating."

"Well, we were posing as a couple at the time," Neal responded.

There was a silent moment before Sara spoke again.

"Utility van bothering you?" she questioned.

Neal nodded. It was a white utility van, one that he had seen and even been in. He recognised the licence plate.

"They could have at least changed the plate," he grumbled. He was more than a little insulted. It seemed like the FBI was underestimating him.

Neal walked back into the apartment. Mozzie stood before the door and looked like he was about to bolt.

"Moz, we're being watched," Neal said.

"Suits?" he questioned, "or your spy suits?"

"The FBI." He wasn't going to contradict the 'his spy suits' part. "Utility van out the front."

"I knew this would happen! The suit betrayed us!" Mozzie cried, pointing at a suitability horrified Peter.

"I have nothing to do with this!"

Sarah pulled her gun back up and moved towards the door. Chuck ducked behind her.

Neal sighed and cursed.

"The FBI is not going to storm the building," Neal said, his voice radiating authority. He turned to Peter. "Do you know why they're there?"

"Probably because of Kramer." Kramer. He was quickly becoming the person behind all of Neal's problems these days.

"Alright, Sara's going to lead the Bartowski couple out the back way. Peter and I will leave the front way and attract their attention." They couldn't arrest him if he was already with an FBI agent. "Moz, you'll be on standby, just in case they come after us. You know what to do."

Mozzie nodded.

"We'll meet up at the FBI building," Neal finished.

* * *

Sara pressed herself as close to the car door as she could. Chuck sat between her and the other Sarah. She snuck glances at the two, wondering just what it was like back when Neal worked with them.

It was impossible to imagine. Neal a spy? And he had been with the other Sarah too.

Sara kept trying to think of ways to talk to them. Neal had said to ask Chuck but she just couldn't find a way to ask.

To her relief, Chuck started a conversation;

"So, how did you meet Neal?"

"He stole a valuable painting," she responded, only realising after the words had left her mouth that they were short and conversation ending. It also reminded her that the Raphael she had been chasing was now on its way back to its rightful owners. Neal had returned the art; traded it in exchange for his freedom. Not that it helped.

"How did you end up as his girlfriend?" Sarah asked. She sounded curious but there was something undefinable in her tone.

"It's a long story," she responded, "and we already broke up."

"Really?" Chuck sounded disappointed.

"Care to answer one of my questions?" she asked, deciding to get on with it, "Neal the spy; or rather, Bryce. What was he like?"


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

* * *

"Bryce was everything that a spy should be. He was brave, smart and athletic. He knew martial arts and wasn't afraid to do what had to be done." Chuck described Bryce automatically, as if he had heard; or thought, this many times. "I tried to be like him, but I just wasn't good enough."

"You're perfect as you are, Chuck," Sarah said, placing her hand on his arm and smiling up at him. "You've done things that an ordinary man couldn't do."

Sara felt a slight pang in her chest. They were so close and she wanted that too. But, she just couldn't commit and couldn't let someone into her life like that. She recalled what Neal said on the balcony just a while ago.

"He said he broke," she informed them. When the couple gave her confused looks, she elaborated; "I asked Neal about the CIA and he said that they broke him. What did he mean?"

This time, Sarah spoke, "the CIA changes people. Bryce got Chuck kicked out of Stanford in order to keep them from recruiting Chuck. I tried to convince Chuck to run when they gave him the training to be a 'real agent'. It's work that revolves around dishonesty and violence. There's no room for emotions. Or, at least," she smiled at Chuck. "That's the way it used to be. Team Bartowski does things a little differently."

Nope. Sara still couldn't imagine Neal as a spy. Dishonesty, he could do but, violence? Neal hated hurting people.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Chuck said, spotting the thoughtful look on her face. "Neal is slightly different from the spy I met years ago. He's more like the Bryce I first met back at Stanford. The fun, but competitive guy who knew Zork, wanted to beat me in every game we played and spoke Klingon during class."

"Zork?" Sara questioned, while thinking; 'Neal knows Klingon?'

"It's a computer game," Sarah explained.

"Excuse me?" Chuck squeaked. "Zork is the text based video game, not 'a computer game'."

"Um," sensing an impending fight, Sara interrupted, "okay. I think I've got a better idea now."

Which was a good thing, because the taxi pulled up in front of the FBI building. Neal and Peter stood just inside, in the camera blind spot.

Peter mentioned that they would go up and see what Casey had found out. Sara automatically followed the group towards the elevator.

Neal slowed down and stared at her.

"I'm not leaving," she said determinedly. Neal frowned and she deflected with, "so, Zork and Klingon?"

Neal's mouth clicked shut and he bounced into step alongside her.

"Spoke to Chuck, huh?" he said, "I was a different guy back at Stanford." He paused for a moment before adding, "I still haven't told them that I can't fight."

She gave him a confused look, all the inquiry she needed to get him to talk.

"Getting shot; twice, messes with the nerves and the recovery is terrible on muscles and reflexes. Plus, I let my fighting skills slack while in prison. Without practice, I can't fight the way they expect me to." He seemed really down about that.

"I don't think it matters," she said to him, feeling the need to cheer him up. "Peter and his team will jump to protect you. Besides, you're Neal Caffrey. You don't need to fight."

He smiled at her as they walked into the elevator. Sara ignored the intrigued look Chuck gave her and the way he nudged Neal.

* * *

Neal couldn't help feeling jumpy the closer they got to the White Collar offices. He could feel Chuck standing next to him, a pillar of steadfast warmth and a person who was pure and forgiving. Chuck would probably steal him away for Team Bartowski rather than let Kramer take him. Next to Chuck and stealing glances at him every few moments was Sarah. She would follow Chuck no matter where the other man went. A protective force to be reckoned with. By all rights, they should be angry with him but, they were helping him instead.

Peter stood before him, so that Neal was facing his back. Here was an agent who would turn his back to a felon in his custody. The man who caught Neal and the only man he could trust. Peter didn't have to turn around to know that Neal was standing there.

Mozzie, Neal knew what Mozzie was doing but not where he was. Neal knew better than to ask. The little man had been working around the clock to make sure that none of this would blow back and come back to hurt them at a later date. He had also been watching over Elizabeth so that she didn't get drawn in.

The elevator opened. Sara, bold as ever, stood tall and stalked out before Neal could even move.

"Alright guys, let's see what it takes to scare off an FBI agent," she said with her trademark smile; which slightly bordered a smirk.

"Please don't phrase it that way," Peter scolded, sounding slightly hurt. This whole incident was making the FBI look bad.

* * *

Casey stood like an imposing wall. Diana stood next to him with a folder in her hands.

"We've got him, boss," she announced, "York admitted to telling Kramer everything about Neal. I looked some of it up and most of the files were confidential. They weren't supposed to be looked at."

"And the information he gave us is linked to Larkin's work with the CIA," Casey added with a grunt of amusement.

"Everything Kramer has is useless," Diana announced, "it won't hold up in court."

"It might," Neal pointed out, "it's not like I can say that I was working undercover for the CIA and Kramer's certainly not going out of his way to find out about that."

"That's because he wants you in DC," Peter pointed out, "he doesn't have to catch you, just make the higher-ups doubt me as your handler."

"We're not going to let that happen," Sarah announced, "Casey and I will speak with Kramer."

"Yeah, I'll just; wait here, I guess," Chuck sighed as his team mates walked towards the conference room.

"Stay here, Neal," Peter said as he followed them up the stairs with Diana behind him.

Neal turned to Chuck to see him mouthing, 'stay in the van', like a petulant child. He caught the look and immediately looked shamed.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Neal commented with a smile. "They tell you that a lot?"

"We go through phases. Sometimes Sarah doesn't want me to get involved because I could get hurt or something."

"Peter tells me to 'stay in the car'," Neal told him with a slight whine to his voice. He really did hate it when Peter left him in the car while he went off to do interesting things. "'Stay in the van' and just 'stay'. It's not like I'm going to do anything bad or anything. It's just boring in the van."

"That's for sure," Chuck responded. For a moment, it was like they were back at Stanford and complaining about professors. Then, Sara cleared her throat and brought them back to the present.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

* * *

The four agents walked into the conference room without pause. Kramer and his team; consisting of three agents other than Diana, looked up. The three agents paled slightly at the ensemble. They had heard stories about Agent Burke and the man had a reputation for being tough but fair.

And the barely suppressed fury in his eyes was enough to make them want to scatter.

It wasn't Agent Burke who spoke first but, the blond woman standing before him.

"Agent Kramer, it's time to end this," she said while the military-like man who had been standing next to her sifted through the files on the table.

"Excuse me?" Kramer said calmly, even though his hands were shaking. "This is a federal investigation; you're not allowed to be here." He looked at Peter as he spoke shaking his head.

"Actually, we are," Sarah held out her CIA badge for him to see.

At that moment, Casey pulled out a few papers from a pile.

"This is information connected to the Von Hayes mission we had with Larkin," Casey announced holding up the relevant papers. "Reports of gunshots, the information on the dead bodyguard and pictures of the two of you at the party."

Sarah winced. That mission had been close to a disaster. Bryce seemed intention on pushing her and Chuck apart during that mission and it had led to bad decisions on all sides.

She turned to Kramer, feeling more than a little annoyed that this man had been digging into her past; even though she hadn't been his target.

"Why are you investigating a CIA mission?" she demanded to know, her eyes going dark.

Kramer's agents started talking; defending themselves as they hadn't known, Kramer as he was supposably a good agent and verbally attacking her and the rest of the group.

Peter stepped forwards and they instinctively stopped speaking.

"I'm not investigating a CIA mission," Kramer responded, "there are links between this report and Neal Caffrey."

"Because he was there, on a CIA mission," Casey pointed out.

The agents looked confused and the lines of Kramer's face grew more discernible.

"Neal Caffrey is the real name of the CIA agent; Bryce Larkin," Sarah announced to the room, "we don't care what crimes you look into related to Caffrey as long as you don't look into anything he did as Bryce Larkin."

First he couldn't use Danny Brooks and now he was going to be cut off from the information he gathered on Bryce Larkin. Kramer was not happy. It showed in the tense of his stance, even if it didn't show in the tone or volume of his voice.

"Too late," he announced, "I've already submitted my reports. Neal Caffrey is now in my custody and will be coming back to DC with me. You'll have to take this up with the higher ups. Sorry, Petey." He hadn't been planning to take Neal just yet, but he had noticed Peter's movements over the past few days. The unidentified people coming and going from his office and Neal's sudden disappearance and reappearance, it all added up to something going on.

Peter looked at Diana and saw the shocked look on her face. It looked like Kramer had been keeping his actions secret once again. He was disappointed when he heard Kramer's words; they were too late, but defiance flared.

"That's why you had the agents watching his house," Peter asked.

"That's right," Kramer admitted. Peter was reminded of the villains of cartoons who would sit there and tell the captured heroes about every step of his plan. He was reminded of Hagen; who signed his work, and Keller; who played with lives like chess pieces. "I needed to know when Caffrey returned, since you didn't tell me. And since I know where he is, I'm going to pick him up." Kramer pulled out an anklet and displayed it for them to see. "Need to put this on him."

Kramer walked out of the room. Peter glared at him for a moment before moving out of the doorway. Kramer thought Neal was at home, since he had the foresight to keep them from spotting him leaving. And Peter hadn't placed the anklet back on when Neal came back.

"Watch your back," Casey growled as Kramer walked past him. Kramer didn't even pause as he walked out of the room.

"Confiscate everything," Sarah told Casey. She also gave Diana the nod to let her assist.

* * *

Chuck was the first to notice the man storming out of the conference room. Peter came out behind him, looking angry and cornered.

Reacting instinctively, Chuck placed a hand on Neal's head and shoved him under the desk.

'Agent Kramer,' he mouthed when Neal looked up at him. Neal nodded and pulled himself back further, hiding under the desk.

"Leaving, sir?" Agent Jones asked, looking up from Chuck's laptop which had been placed on Neal's desk. Sara Ellis was sitting in Neal's chair.

"That's right," Kramer said, "my agents will be returning to DC over the next few days. I leave this afternoon."

"No more reason to stay?" Chuck asked, hopefully. Had Kramer backed off that easily?

"I have what I came for." Chuck's face fell. A few of the nearby agents shared his reaction.

"Sir?" Jones questioned.

"You'll want to clear this desk," Kramer informed them. Underneath the desk, Neal winced. Kramer had won.

"So, that's it?" Chuck asked, "you want Neal so you take him?" Two spots of colour appeared on his cheeks. They were light but concentrated.

Chuck was angry. He physically held back but, he was furious.

Kramer's lack of answer was answer enough. The man even had the gall to look slightly proud!

"I started out as a CIA asset," Chuck informed him, "and the CIA treated me better than how you're treating Neal! The CIA didn't make me uproot my life," although they never let him forget that it was an option, especially if it leaked that he was the Intersect. "They didn't send me across the country just because another agent wanted me. If it was important, they brought the information to me!"

"Neal Caffrey is a criminal-"

"That doesn't mean he isn't a person! You cannot persecute someone just because they made a mistake or two! Neal would be the bad guy, if it was to protect someone! You may think he's just a criminal, but I know he does what he thinks is right."

What Peter had told him about Kramer's plans for Neal made him sick. He was going to take Neal away from the first place he could call home in years and use him. It was a fate that Chuck had faced a few times and he remembered how scary and unfair it felt.

"The FBI is supposed to protect people; especially those who can't protect themselves," Chuck pointed out in a soft voice.

Silence followed Chuck's words. The entire office stopped to watch. Neal's face was flaming with embarrassment and he was glad that no one could see it. He had forgotten how bold Chuck could be. A lot of people made the mistake of thinking he was a pushover but, Chuck always fought the things he believed were right. The naiveté of believing in government agents was also something that Chuck possessed. It seemed that not even working in the CIA could break that.

Kramer hesitated to respond. He thought was protecting Peter Burke from Neal Caffrey; from having to arrest a friend, but he couldn't say it out loud. His mind seductively turned to the achievements he could gain and the increase in closure rate, if he just had Neal Caffrey under his thumb. He hesitated and lost his chance to respond.

Kramer stormed out. It didn't matter to him what Chuck said, he was already Caffrey's handler and that wouldn't change.

* * *

**Author's note: **Just reminding people of the note I made back in chapter 3;

_ Because I do send PM replies to people who review, I thought I'd add an option for those who just want to review but don't want a reply._

_If you don't want me to reply (excluding those who review as guests or not logged in, because I can't reply to those anyway), just sign your review with a smiley face; :) , put it right at the end and I'll read it but not respond. :)_

It would also be nice to know if this system works for people or if they just want me to forget about it (it only counts when the :) is right at the end and not if you put it anywhere else in the review).

As for Chuck's reaction to what Kramer said; he possibly feels a bit guilty for the way he thought of Bryce during those years after he got kicked out of Stanford.

Also, Kramer thinks he won (hint: it's not over yet). We're getting close to the end (I want to see if I can finish this in around 20 Chapters).


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

* * *

In the aftermath of Chuck's declaration, agents swarmed around him. They wanted to know who he was and what he was doing here.

Jones praised him with a quick tap on the shoulder and a, 'nicely said.' The jump in morale seemed almost visible as the office swarmed to life.

"That has to be the most entertaining thing I've seen in a while," Sara commented.

"That's Chuck for you," Neal responded from under the desk. He paused for a moment before climbing out.

A voice rang out over the bullpen, making agents redirect their attention to their work and not the drama unfolding around them.

"Back to work people!" Hughes ordered. He stood above them with his double-finger point and pointed at Chuck and Neal.

"What does that mean?" Chuck asked as Neal sighed.

"Follow me."

"You too, Burke," Hughes said as he walked into his office. He only had to ask one question to get to the bottom of everything;

"What is going on?"

The three people in front of him hesitated. Hughes would accept no fabrications or alterations of the truth. Neal and Peter both knew this; although it didn't stop Neal from trying, and Chuck automatically reacted to Hughes' aura.

Casey came to the rescue. He walked in with a file and placed it on Hughes' desk.

"Confidentiality agreement?" Peter questioned when Hughes opened it.

"He signs it and we cover this whole thing up," Casey responded. This was why Mozzie had called him. He knew exactly what to do when confidential information landed in the hands of people who shouldn't have it.

Hughes looked to Peter and, when Peter nodded, signed the forms.

"Now, someone explain," he said.

"Neal Caffrey isn't just a white collar criminal," Casey explained bluntly, "he's also a CIA agent known as Bryce Larkin. Up until my informant contacted me, we believed he was dead. One of your agents made a huge mess of things by investigating Larkin." Neal and Chuck could hear the 'stupid FBI' that went unsaid in that sentence.

"Since you found him, I wouldn't call it a huge mess," Hughes replied, keeping his cool. It didn't matter, since Casey wasn't listening.

"Alright, Chuckles. Sarah and I will dispose of the files and everything Kramer collected. You stay here."

"Right," Chuck said with a sigh as Casey left. What followed was a long conversation where Neal and Peter had to explain to the boss why they had been going behind his back.

* * *

_"It was easy. For a while, I would be Neal Caffrey; allegedly do something, and then I would be Bryce Larkin and go off and complete a CIA mission. The CIA didn't care if I took some vacation time after missions. And they didn't care at all what I did with my time and I was good at covering my tracks..._

_"I was driven at times. The sooner I completed my mission, the sooner I could go and be Neal..._

_"Rumours were important. I played up what Neal did and let people think I did a lot more than I did. The great thing about being a forger and a thief was that all I had to do was hint that I had taken something and people believed it and it wasn't like they could prove otherwise. If it hadn't been reported then that just meant what I did hadn't been discovered. Rumours meant I could be in two places at once; Neal stealing something at the same time Bryce uncovers some evil plot, on separate sides of the world..._

_"'What did Casey mean when he said they thought I was dead?' Simple. I got shot. For the second time. General Beckman managed to recover my body and fix me up; the details of how are classified though. And once again, I returned from the dead. I escaped from the facility they were holding be at and once more became Neal Caffrey..._

_"Bryce Larkin was supposed to remain dead, but Agent Kramer found the deposit box where I put my old CIA badge..."_

* * *

_"Why be a criminal?" _

Neal didn't answer Hughes' question. He didn't owe that Hughes. The rest of the questions he owed answers too; the discovery of his CIA identity had thrown the entire office into disarray, even if not everyone understood what was going on.

There was someone he did owe the answer to, but that would have to wait.

* * *

Cover-ups were a lot of work. Files and computers had to be confiscated and people not in the CIA had to sign confidentiality agreements or risk being taken underground somewhere for the rest of their life; no matter what Mozzie believed, the CIA didn't have any devices which could erase memories.

Neal got suspicious when he wasn't given a form to sign. Even Kramer's agents each signed one.

All the information on Bryce Larkin was taken and destroyed. With that information taken and the confidentiality agreements signed, there really was no evidence of Kramer's investigation besides the unhelpful and all legal information on Danny Brooks.

As if on cue, the higher ups called Hughes and informed him that Kramer's transfer request for Neal was being retracted. Hughes believed that someone important had lit a fire under their butts.

Neal didn't get to see Kramer's face when he found out but, Mozzie sent him a picture and he made it his new phone background; which he immediately changed back because seeing Kramer's face every time he looked at his phone was creepy.

And Kramer couldn't do anything about it, because his flight was due to leave. Somehow the extra ticket he had in anticipation of having Neal with him had been cancelled and he had been downgraded to economy class.

He was also certain his taxi driver was ripping him off; there was no way a ride from the hotel to the airport could have cost that much, and the driver looked oddly familiar.

With everyone's attention elsewhere, things were bound to slip through the cracks. Evan York was escorted out of the interrogation room by a couple of agents who didn't really know who he was or why he was there. He managed to subdue them; FBI agents were rather easy to knock around, and take the key to his cuffs and a gun.

* * *

Sara had only asked what Klingon was and Neal had turned to her with excited eyes. The Agent Carmichael; Chuck, wasn't much help either. If anything, his expression was more excited than Neal's.

They had sat her down and started up episodes of Star Trek.

"It's not Star Wars," Chuck warned her, "so don't go confusing the two. Bryce once broke up with a girl on the spot because she thought Star Trek was the one with the robots and Death Star." It took Sara a moment to figure out how that was relevant, a moment to remember that Bryce was Neal.

"She deserved it," Neal said when she looked at him. "I tried to correct her and she said, 'it doesn't matter, they're both stupid space shows.'" He paused a moment and then looked at Chuck. "And we're not dating."

"But you're sleeping together," Chuck said, sounding slightly confused. Before either of them could respond, he turned to Neal and added, "why else would she have your key?"

Jones glanced over at them. He had heard what Chuck had said and was all keyed up to inform Diana.

"Chuck, stay out of my love life."

"Like how you stayed out of mine?" Chuck questioned. Neal reeled. Apparently, Chuck wasn't as forgiving as he thought. "Come on, Neal, I want to know what's going on. You've told us all about Kramer and the mission but nothing about your private life; beyond the whole 'I have a two-mile radius,' thing."

"Ignore him," Neal said to Sara as he grabbed Chuck's arm and dragged him out of the office. "Keep watching the video!"

* * *

**Author's note: **Next chapter has a little action.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

* * *

"So, you stole a painting," Chuck recounted, realising that Sara hadn't been joking when she told them how she met Neal, "and she came after it. You were arrested and then, when you got out on the anklet, she hired Peter for a case. A case that involved you posing as a hitman," been there, done that, "and sneaking into her house. She was going to shoot you and you thought she was going to shoot you. So, you both basically didn't like each other but you needed to get into her mail to collect something that was connected to an unrelated matter. Best way to do that was to make her like you. You grew to like her in return and you both hooked up. And then a stolen treasure lands in your lap, she finds out and she leaves because she doesn't want anything to do with it. And the treasure is gone now, so there shouldn't be anything between you.

"Neal, that's a romance movie recipe for love."

"We're different people, Chuck," Neal pointed out, repeating what Sara said when she broke up with him. Sure, he was upset about the situation but, there wasn't much he could do about it. "And this isn't a movie."

"Well, you have one thing going for you," Chuck commented, "she's here, isn't she? And she still has the key for your place."

"That's because I keep refusing to take it back," Neal responded.

"And she likes Star Trek."

"She just started watching it. For all we know, she could hate it!"

Chuck just shrugged like he wasn't really listening. The elevator door opened beside them and the movement of the doors caught their attention.

Evan York stood there with a gun in hand and an angry scowl on his face. The gun was pointed right at them.

"Get in," he ordered with a motion of his hand. "Don't put your hands up." Chuck had been the one slowly raising his hands but, at the man's order, they both dropped their hands to their sides. Neither of them wanted to be shot. The man motioned with the gun and moved aside.

"Please tell me you can take this guy," Chuck whispered tightly as they stepped inside.

Neal shook his head. York was a trained agent, even if he was a traitor. Someone trained to counter the techniques Neal knew, even if he could get them off quick enough.

Neal would be overpowered almost instantly.

Chuck swallowed. He knew that Sarah and Casey would probably find a way to blame this on him. After all, only he could end up in a hostage situation while in an FBI building.

"How am I going to explain this one to Peter?" Neal said with a sigh.

"Shut up," York ordered.

"You know, there are cameras all over this building," Neal pointed out, nodding in the direction of the elevator camera. "The FBI can see what you're doing. They'll be able to follow us wherever you go."

Neal flinched and Chuck ducked as York moved the gun and shot the camera without hesitation.

"If you don't shut up, you're next, Larkin," York threatened, pointing the gun back at them.

Chuck and Neal exchanged a 'what now' look. Neal always had a plan, but he didn't like playing with people's lives. And Chuck's life would be in danger no matter he tried.

The elevator doors opened again and York placed himself behind Chuck.

"Move, both of you," he ordered, pressing the gun into Chuck's side where it couldn't be seen. "Or I shoot."

* * *

Neal mentally cursed as he walked out with Chuck and York behind him. If he tried anything, he didn't doubt that York would shoot Chuck.

"Then what?" Neal asked, before they reached the exit.

"Get in a taxi," York said.

"Uh, wait," Chuck said hesitantly. He winced a moment later and Neal guessed York pressed the gun into his side again. "Taxis are easy to track," Chuck pointed out in a quick, breathless voice, "and there are cameras outside the building."

"Chuck," Neal said. While it sounded like Chuck was helping him, he was probably trying to get York to trust him and lower his guard.

Neal was surprisingly okay with that plan, except that York was in a hurry to get anywhere but here and was very trigger happy.

Chuck looked around everywhere for another option, something he could use to distract York or to send a message to Sara and Casey.

"Oh no," he whined, recognising someone walking towards them. He was dwarfed by the people of New York but recognisable for his hair and beard. Also, he was bobbing, weaving and jumping in order to see around.

"Oh no?" Neal questioned moving away from the building as York instructed. Chuck's glancing around was obvious but it also made it hard to tell what exactly he had noticed.

"Deus ex Morgan," Chuck said, moving quicker. York tugged him back.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Chuck!" Morgan's voice carried easily over the crowd, honed by years of working in a busy Buy More. "Hey, man, where are you going?"

"Who is he?" York questioned.

"Just a friend," Chuck responded quickly. Neal was wondering if there was a way they could use Morgan to get a message to Peter. "He's just a friend, came with us to New York with his wife for a holiday. Please don't shoot him."

Morgan walked up and York twisted Chuck around to face him. Neal was shoved up beside Chuck.

"I just came to tell you that Alex is at the hospital," Morgan said, "they've got her on the good stuff so she's finally starting to feel better. I see you're with Neal Caffrey so, is he or isn't he a CIA zombie?"

"The CIA doesn't have zombies," Neal responded automatically as Chuck nodded in response.

"He's Bryce."

Which seemed to flick something in Morgan. He went from friendly to kicked puppy in an instant.

"I see. And you're going out? Just him and you and your other new friend who I also haven't met. Without me. Just you and your new friends. No room for good old Morgan."

"Get him out of here," York hissed in Chuck's ear as Morgan went on.

"You know, good old Morgan. Your bestest buddy since forever. The guy who was there for you when Bryce got you kicked out of Stanford and stole your girl. I was there when you and Sarah met! We've worked missions together; saved the world! I know I was kind of a jerk for a while there but I thought we meant more to each other than that. But, I see now, you'll trade me in for your traitorous Stanford buddy and his... whatever."

"My god, this is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," York said. However, before he could do or say anything else, he was hit from behind with the butt of a gun.

"Chuck, I should have known I'd find you here," a smooth feminine voice said.

With everyone's attention on the events of that day, things were bound to slip through the cracks. Like Morgan. Like Gertrude Verbanski.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I just realised, I created a bad guy with the last name York; in New York. I apologise for the (unintended) wordplay.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

* * *

With everyone's attention on the events of that day, things were bound to slip through the cracks. Like Morgan. Like Gertrude Verbanski.

Honestly, Neal had forgotten about the mounted gun he had stolen from her. It hadn't been a great prize or something hard to steal. Nor had he expected her to come after him.

He stepped back as the gun Verbanski was holding pointed at him.

"Okay, I think I've reached my quota for guns pointed at me for today," Neal quipped, "Chuck, a little help?"

"Ms Verbanski-"

"Save it," Verbanski said, "I'm not here for you or your little friend, just for Neal Caffrey. He stole something from me and I want it back."

"He stole." Chuck turned to Neal. "You stole from Verbanski?"

"Not my first choice of target," Neal responded, never taking his off the gun. "Or my second. Really, she'd be at the bottom of the list, no offence. But, someone may have asked me to acquire something from her and they may or may not be a gun wielding lunatic."

"Dude, just give back what you took," Morgan said, his voice slightly higher because of the gun.

"You should listen to him," Verbanski said, "Grimes knows what's going on here."

"I don't have it."

Morgan's face fell and he moved away, while Chuck moved closer.

"Who asked you steal it?" Chuck asked, before Verbanski could shoot.

"Casey."

And understanding expression lit Morgan's and Chuck's faces. Verbanski's trigger finger twitched at the name.

"So?" she said, sounding a little less certain than before. "Steal it back."

"Oh man," Morgan said. He turned to her. "Don't you get it? He wants you back."

"What?" she responded flatly.

"This is classic boy-likes-girl behaviour. He's trying to get your attention."

"I did get that feeling," Neal agreed when she looked at him for confirmation. Relationship advice was okay; when not directed at him, but Neal had to wonder when Morgan of all people became an expert. Hadn't Chuck mentioned that Morgan had some kind of hopeless; and creepy, infatuation with Chuck's sister?

"The man's been a wreck since you broke up with him," Morgan said, "he's been grumpy and irritable and not Casey at all." Neal thought that sounded exactly like Casey. "He's been locked up in his house and not even tending to his bonsai trees."

"Really?" Now Verbanski sounded interested. Neal's eyebrows rose. He hadn't expected this.

"Really. Now, either leave him; and this guy alone," Morgan shoved an unamused thumb in Neal's direction. "Let Casey have his break-up present or go and make up with him."

There was only the noise of the street around them for a moment as Morgan paused for dramatic effect. Verbanski sheathed her gun in a shoulder holster and pulled out a slip of paper.

"Fine. I'll be here at 20 hundred hours," she said as she handed it to Morgan. "He better turn up." The unspoken threat behind her tone was obvious. If he didn't turn up, they would wind up right back here with a gun pointed at Neal's chest.

* * *

When they returned, they found their group holed up in the conference room. Peter, Diana, Jones, Sara and Sarah, and Casey. There seemed to be some kind of tension in the air, one of slight desperation.

At least, until Jones noticed them walking over to them, upon which the tension snapped.

"Neal!" Peter cried out practically pushing them into the soundproofed office so that the office would be spared this part of the dramatics. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Neal responded as Chuck reported the same thing to his concerned wife. "Why?"

"The FBI let York escape," Casey informed them with a snort. It was like he had been waiting for something like this to happen.

"We managed to pull the security feed which showed him taking you hostage," Sarah continued with the explanation as she took Chuck's hands in her own.

"Yeah, York," Chuck said hesitantly. He really didn't like explaining his failures to people. He got held at gun-point; again. "Some agents downstairs locked him down. They're going to hand him over to the marshals or something so that he doesn't escape again."

"What happened?" Jones asked, glancing between Neal and Chuck.

Neal and Chuck both turned to look at Morgan. Sensing his turn to speak, Morgan walked right up to Casey and passed him the card.

"I got you a date," he announced, "20 hundred hours, tonight, that address. You'll have a tall, smoking brunette waiting for you."

"How is this relevant?" Diana asked as Casey began to sneer.

"Morgan distracted York while Verbanski saved us," Chuck responded.

"Gertrude?" Casey asked flatly as his sneer dropped of his face.

"Gertrude Verbanski?" Peter sounded horrified. Neal rather thought it was close to how he was feeling about this whole thing. "Neal, what did you do?"

"Don't ask," he responded.

"Huh," Casey made an amused grunt. "Better get me a club."

"Yes, you do that!" Morgan said, guiding Casey out of the room. With Chuck and Neal back, he didn't have to spend his afternoon hunting for them. And evening with Gertrude topped hunting for a kidnapped Bartowski, so he wasn't too disappointed about not having the chance to shoot York.

'Club?' Jones mouthed in confusion to Diana. Diana shrugged in return.

"Maybe it's code for something?" she whispered in reply.

"Actually, my theory is that Casey's idea for a date is to club the girl over the head and carry her caveman-style," Chuck gave his theory.

Unfortunately for him, Casey was still in the room and heard every word. Chuck's convinced the man has super-hearing.

"A club, numbskull," he repeated, "you know, a place where you can drink and dance; or in your case, make a fool of yourself."

Looks of realisation appeared on everyone in the room. Once Casey was gone, Chuck turned to Morgan.

"I notice you didn't tell the man that his daughter was in hospital."

"Are you kidding me, Chuck? That's asking to be shot," Morgan sounded offended even at the idea.

* * *

With everything wrapped up, Neal hadn't been expecting Chuck at the door that evening. Chuck was holding a bottle of soft drink and shifting nervously.

"Hi," he said, "can I come in?"

After a moment of pause, Neal moved to let him in. Chuck's eyes flashed towards his ankle, where the anklet rested underneath Neal's baggy pants.

"This place is really nice," Chuck commented after a moment of awkward silence.

"Yeah," Neal responded, "it's actually owned by a wonderful older woman named June. She lets me stay here for next to nothing. Right now, she's travelling."

"Oh," Chuck responded, placing the bottle on the table. It seemed that as long as they were around other people, they could act normally around each other. But, alone, it was awkward. Neither of them knew how to talk to the other as their pasts weighed heavy on them. Chuck was awkward, afraid of flipping some kind of switch or offending Neal. Neal was closed off, unwilling to risk opening up to his old friend.

"We'll be heading back to Burbank as soon as Alex is up to travel," Chuck announced.

"Morgan's wife, right?"

"Yeah."

Neal had been surprised to hear Sarah announce that she was going to see her. He couldn't have imagined the cold, hard spy woman he had once wooed caring for someone else outside of the mission.

"She's definitely better off with you," Neal sighed as he poured himself some wine.

"Who, Alex?"

"Sarah."

"Well, you've got your own Sara now," Chuck commented, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Neal just gave him a weak smile, one which mirrored his own. However, the joke had fallen flat.

A pattern of raps sounded from the door.

* * *

**Author's note: **Okay, so this is going a little longer than 20 chapters. Just some character development and concluding to go.

Oh, guess who's at the door!


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

* * *

After leaving the office that afternoon, Neal had called Mozzie. He invited him over to try some new wine he had acquired.

At that point, Neal hadn't imagined that Chuck would be joining them. He was panicked by the thought, not that he let it show. Neal smiled and opened the door, letting Mozzie see Chuck standing inside.

"Who's the Schnook?" he asked as he walked in. Mozzie had brought his own wine glass, which he immediately filled with some of Neal's wine.

"Chuck, we met earlier today," Chuck reminded him. Although there hadn't been introductions between them, Mozzie had stuck to the background.

"I know that," Mozzie responded.

"He's part of the CIA team that Peter called in," Neal explained. Mozzie looked Chuck up and down and took a sip of his wine.

"If you've come to take Neal back into your unholy government circle, you'll find me to be your opponent," Mozzie said with confidence. Neal was slightly warmed by the display. It was the first real sign that Mozzie was okay with his past as a CIA agent.

To his surprise, Chuck held out his hands and responded; "not just yet."

"'Not just yet'?" Neal repeated in disbelief. He knew it had been too easy!

"Right now, Neal Caffrey belongs to the FBI and the CIA isn't going to mess with that," Chuck said, "especially considering you destroyed hundreds upon thousands of dollars worth of CIA resources. The General is still mad about that."

Neal recalled the numerous computers he over-clocked; trying to erase his data from the system, and the few explosions he caused while escaping the CIA medical facility. He hadn't been too proud about that but there had been a number of agents chasing after him at the time.

"Add that to the two Intersects you helped destroy and Beckman thinks you're kind of a liability."

Neal sensed a 'but'.

"When your work with the FBI ends, Beckman will see about getting you back then."

"No way."

"I did have a plan to counter that."

"I can look after myself, Chuck."

"Because you did so well before?"

"Oi!" It wasn't until Mozzie spoke that they realised how loud they were speaking. Mozzie stepped between them, forcing them both to back off a little. "What's wrong with you, Neal? I like a good dose of distrust in the government but, you keep getting into verbal sparring matches with these CIA suits. That isn't how we do things, Neal."

Neal swallowed and his eyes dropped to his feet. Yeah, it wasn't. Getting into fights with Chuck and his team wouldn't help him in the long run.

"Now, what was your plan, Schnook Suit?"

Chuck blinked for a few moments before responding;

"Basically, Neal; or Bryce, joins my team but in name only. That way, any missions for him have to go through us. Basically, as long as we don't absolutely need him; which we probably won't as we do have other people who could help us, Neal won't get called in."

"And he'll have access to all your secret government information?" Mozzie asked, sounding excited.

"I guess," Chuck responded. He brought a hand up to point at his head. "But most of it is in here. We do have access to the CIA and NSA databases but the Intersect is far more flexible."

"And what is this 'Intersect'?" Mozzie asked, engaging his 'dumb' persona he used to wheedle information out of unsuspecting marks. He held out a filled wine glass for Chuck.

Neal intercepted it.

"No," he told Moz, "stay out of it. You don't mess with the Intersect, trust me."

Chuck seemed to realise that at the same time and paled when he realised just how much he had said. He hadn't been tricked into giving up the information but he had thought that Neal's friend was okay to speak around.

"Oh, boo," Mozzie responded, "that's no fun."

"He's right," Chuck responded, "Bryce got shot twice because of it."

"Getting shot is not a big deal," Mozzie responded. He had been shot a few millimetres from his heart during the hunt for Kate's; Neal's dead girlfriend's, killer.

"The first time was near the heart and the second time he bleed out," Chuck responded with his hands trembling. "Both times, we thought he was dead."

"Sorry about that by the way," Neal said, realising that he had never apologised for dying again. "When I was healed enough to escape I just wanted to run and cut all ties to Bryce Larkin."

"I'm not angry," Chuck said, as if just realising it himself, "maybe I should be, but I'm not. I'm just glad you're alive."

Neal was silent for a moment as he absorbed that. He then pushed it aside for the moment, he could think about it later.

"Right," he responded. He pulled out a chair and sat down. "Well, I actually called Moz because I wanted to tell him about the reason why I agreed to help him pull cons even though I was a CIA agent."

* * *

Chuck wondered if it was alright for him to hear this. He hadn't meant to intrude on what Neal had planned with his friend. Nevertheless, he was interested in why Bryce would commit crimes and go to prison and since Neal wasn't pushing him out the door; he sat down. Since he sat at the head of the table, he had Neal to one side and Mozzie to the other.

"Alright," Neal sighed reluctantly. This hadn't been an easy decision to make; telling Mozzie and now Chuck. But, he owed Mozzie the truth, even if Moz used it as evidence of Stockholm Syndrome towards the FBI. "I've already mentioned that I came to New York after doing something bad; but I never told Moz what it was." He paused, downed the rest of his glass of wine and poured another. His throat felt tight and the words stale on his tongue.

"What did you do?" Mozzie asked, "steal government secrets? Assassinate some government bigwig? Test mind control on the unsuspecting masses?"

"My job wasn't to assassinate," Neal pointed out, "that's more Casey's area. And the CIA doesn't employ mind control." And if Chuck shifted nervously during that sentence, Neal was just going to ignore it. He was well-aware of the number of things that could go wrong with a faulty Intersect and he really didn't want to get shot again. He took another sip of wine and answered, "I betrayed someone." He was going to blame the sudden burn in his cheeks on the wine and not on embarrassment. "And got him kicked out of Stanford."

"Oh." Since he wasn't looking at Chuck, Neal heard the pieces click into place instead of seeing the look of realisation.

"I thought he would bounce back easily and didn't account for how I would feel. I couldn't," Neal continued, staring at the patterns in the wood of the table. If he didn't look up, he could just pretend that Chuck wasn't here. "He trusted me completely and I went and stabbed him in the back. Got him kicked out because I didn't want the CIA to use him. Everyone thought he did it and they weren't quiet about it. Every comment was piercing, a reminder of what I did. The room was quiet without him and people left me alone; 'out of respect'. I was guilty and he was innocent but no one knew that. God, Chuck, Stanford sucked without you. And it was my fault. I brought it on myself."

Neal wasn't close to finished yet. Somehow, it was easier to keep going now that he had started. He spoke; Chuck and Mozzie listened.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

* * *

Neal continued to ramble while Chuck and Mozzie listened;

"After a few months, I took a break and came to New York and just drifted for a few days. I forged the bank bonds because I was bored and then I met Mozzie. And, Moz, you are brilliant. You had a whole con planned out and just needed a front guy.

"I wanted to get caught; wait, no. What I wanted was the chase. Moz, your long con would give me that chase. The FBI started looking into me and I was finally excited about something, for the first time since ruining my friendship with Chuck."

"What about the CIA?" Chuck asked quickly when Neal paused, "weren't they exciting?"

Neal shook his head.

"The oppressive man holds himself above all and corrupts," Mozzie said, confusing them both. "Seriously, Neal, all those times I told you something was a risk or dangerous or warned you that you could get caught and you went in anyway," his voice rose a frustrated octave as he said, "you were trying to get caught!"

"While simultaneously trying to escape," Neal added, as if that made it better. But, he had realised it when Casey had appeared in his apartment and understood when he walked back into the FBI afterwards. Neal broke the law, but he didn't hurt anyone; which was a real crime in his book. But, Bryce Larkin hurt people. He had to. And no one treated it like a crime; he was even considered to be a good agent because of it!

Bryce did the crime and Neal was the one who was chased by people looking to prove him guilty. Since they were was the same person, it helped to elevate some of his guilt.

Neal was the one who found the good agents; Peter and his team.

* * *

"Well, no more!" Mozzie announced boldly, "you're done with getting yourself caught."

"I agree," Chuck said, surprisingly.

"You're one strange suit."

"Chuck?"

"Uh, well, I can't really judge," Chuck said nervously, "I mean, I've done the wrong thing before and not really done what was asked of me either. I know I frustrate Casey and even Sarah at times."

"How do you deal with that?" Neal asked, "when they realise that you aren't doing or going to do what the asked?" This would be handy future information for whenever he needed to 'go off reservation' as Peter sometimes called it.

"Uh, I do what I think is right, unless they can give me a good reason not to," Chuck responded.

"I've been doing that," Neal said with a sigh, "and most of the time it turns out okay but Peter's still mad at me afterwards."

"I sometimes buy Sarah flowers but I don't think that'll work in your situation," Chuck responded. He winced as he recalled a few times she had really been mad at him for not listening or following the plan.

"I tried using game tickets with Peter after I really screwed up one time," Neal reminisced sadly.

"'Tried' being the operative word?" Chuck guessed and Neal nodded in response.

"He refused them. I gave them to Jones and he took Peter."

"Jones is a cool guy," Chuck agreed.

"Are you two really sitting here discussing how Neal could better get around his handlers?" Mozzie questioned in disbelief. They stared at him for a few moments before both shrugging in a non-committal way. Mozzie sighed. While Chuck might be able to ignore it; typical for the man, Moz knew he couldn't ignore what Neal had confessed. "Neal, are you going to go back to the CIA after the FBI?"

"No," Neal's response was slightly more off-beat than usual. Mozzie reached out an pulled the wine closer to him, mentally deciding that Neal had enough for the night. "Never."

"Are you going to keep working with the FBI?" Neal's silence was all the response Mozzie needed. Moz sighed. It looked like there were still suit-tendencies in Neal from his time as Bryce. However, it also suggested that Neal could properly work with the FBI and still do side-jobs as a con; since he had apparently been doing it since they had met, just with the CIA instead of the FBI.

Mozzie looked at the other two. Although not drunk, they were definitely buzzed from the alcohol. Neal has said what he wanted to say and they had listened. For tonight that would have to be enough. Now that Moz had confirmed that Neal wasn't going to be turning Suit Bryce anytime soon, he could arrange to discuss this with Neal at a later date. With more wine.

* * *

Neal rubbed at the crick in his neck. He was sitting on the balcony with his breakfast. Chuck was still asleep on the bed inside and Neal had spent the night on the couch.

How did Mozzie do it? Neal couldn't imagine sleeping on that couch night after night. Right now, he didn't think he would ever do it again.

Mozzie had left sometime before they went to bed. Neal struggled to remember if he left before or after the argument where neither he or Chuck wanted the other to sleep on the couch. Neal's argument was that Chuck was bigger than he was and a guest but, Chuck didn't want to kick Neal out of his bed.

"I should have gone back to the hotel," Chuck said from the doorway.

"It was way too late," Neal reminded him, "and Sarah would have killed you."

Chuck winced and Neal wondered for a moment whether she really would.

"Have some coffee," he suggested, pointing at the other cup.

Chuck stumbled into the seat and took a sip. His eyes widened and he gasped.

"Too hot!"

"Philistine," Neal mocked to himself, taking another sip of his perfect coffee.

Peter found them there when he arrived, chatting happily with each other.

* * *

When Neal arrived back after work that day, Chuck was gone. In his place, he had left a phone and a list of contact details which bordered excessive.

There was also a note:

_ 'Casey's date went well. We think. Sarah spotted Gertrude Verbanski sneaking out of his room, with a grappling hook!'_

* * *

**Author's note: **One more chapter to go - Neal and Chuck getting back to their non-intertwined lives. Also, I didn't edit this chapter as much as I did the others so there may be mistakes.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

* * *

It was a bright morning. Neal was back with the FBI and Kramer's shadow over the offices was gone. He walked into the office with Peter by his side and a coffee in his hand.

"Morning, Jones," he greeted with a smile.

Jones greeted him back with a smile. Diana said 'hi' as she passed by.

However, some of the other agents were a little distant. Neal had spent over a week trying to get them to accept him again; if not as a con than as a co-worker. After finding out that he had been CIA; a spy-fed, some of them started acting really apologetic.

Information about Bryce Larkin; also known as Neal Caffrey, combined with Chuck's speech, had given some of the agents a hearty dose of guilt. Some who just fleetingly thought that Neal was sometimes a little whiny and that he should appreciate what he had were feeling guilty and apologetic. Neal had been a spy, travelling around the world and saving lives and now he was in an anklet with a two-mile radius; not exactly a good trade-off.

Neal had been mostly successful in convincing them that he had given up being a federal agent before being arrested and that he hadn't thought about becoming a Fed again. At least not until he began working under Peter, but he wasn't really outright stating that. But, he certainly wasn't going to become a spy again.

Peter dropped some files on his desk.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Neal asked, smiling innocently up at Peter.

"Mortgage fraud," Peter responded with a cheery grin.

Neal made a face.

"Come on, doesn't the CIA have paperwork?"

"There's no mortgage fraud in the CIA, Peter," Neal responded just as his phone beeped with a message from Chuck;

_'Turns out, I should never leave the Buy More without myself or Morgan again.'_ There was even a video file attached.

"Whoa," Jones said as he snooped over Neal's shoulder, "if that ain't illegal, it should be."

"What?" Peter questioned, moving around the table. "Let me see."

On the video, two strange men wearing towels like togas were dancing around a fire outside a green coloured building.

"Are those microwaves?" Peter questioned, squinting at the screen. It certainly looked like burning microwaves.

* * *

Chuck sighed as he looked over the earning reports. Jeff and Lester's plan to turn their concert thing into a grand party had turned sour and left the Buy More with a pile of unsellable burned merchandise, fines and bad publicity. At least, Neal and his co-workers had enjoyed the video. Jones had even sent him some of those pens he wanted.

Morgan wouldn't let Chuck finish a conversation without reminding him that he did warn him.

In addition, the members of Verbanski Corp. had taken to buying things whenever their boss snuck Casey away for; well, Chuck didn't want to think about that. She would leave her bodyguards; or whatever they were, in the store where they would hang out for however long it would take for her to reappear. He had already managed to sell them an upgrade for their security system and charged them extra for offsite install.

Chuck sighed and Sarah's hand appeared in his vision, closing his laptop.

"Are you going to eat?" she asked with a disapproving frown.

Chuck jolted out of his thoughts and nodded. His dinner was sitting at the table for him, the mouth-watering smell attracting his attention.

His phone beeped.

"If that's the Buy More," Sarah growled threateningly.

"It's Neal," Chuck quickly said as he opened the message.

_'Sara's coming over for dinner :) Got any tips for getting her through another season of Star Trek?'_

_'If she feels like making out, forget about the TV,'_ Chuck sent back. He was still working off the guilt from the time he had told Sarah to, 'just wait until the end of this episode,' and that had been ages ago. His phone beeped again.

_'Chuck, you didn't...' _

* * *

**Author's note: **This was a short final chapter, more of an epilogue really. So, box of problems is finished! For those who are sad to see it end, I've got a few more Chuck/White Collar crossovers planned. Not sequels, new stories. Look forward to it.


End file.
